



4^1 




Gass 5^ 4-315" 

Book.__ i^ZX 

ligM^N 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSJT. 



PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
REV. J. W. G. WARD 



PARABLES FOR 
LITTLE PEOPLE 

Fifty-two Sermonettes 

BY 

REV. J. W. G. WARD 

NEW COURT CHURCH, 
TOLLINGTON PARK, LONDON 

Author of "Problems That Perplex," etc. 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

REV. G. CAMPBELL MORGAN, D.D. 




NEW XBir YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 






^y 



COPYRIGHT, 1 921, 
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



NOV 23 192! 



gW.A627852 



V 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 






TO 

EILEEN AND BEECHER 

AND 

THE CHILDREN OF EMANUEL, 

BOOTLE AND NEW COURT, LONDON 



INTRODUCTION 

It is told of Abraham Lincoln that once he was 
asked to express his opinion of a book of poems, 
and did so by saying: " These poems will be 
greatly liked by persons who like poems of this 
sort.' 7 There may have been some veiled sarcasm 
in that statement — but by no means necessarily so. 
No poems are liked by all people. It is equally 
true that every book makes its appeal to certain 
persons — and having read these Parables, I am 
constrained to say, and that with no suspicion of 
sarcasm, they will be greatly loved by people who 
love stories of this kind. And who are these 
people ? Unquestionably the very ' ' Little People ' ' 
for whom they are written. 

Mr. Ward has written with understanding. He 
is today conducting one of the most conspicuously 
successful ministries in London, in the church of 
which I was minister for four years, twenty years 
ago. He has a remarkable hold upon his young 
people ; and equally helps the great crowds of busy 
men and women who throng the sanctuary to the 
doors. In these Parables we discover something 
of the secret of his success. Other secrets would 
be revealed in his preaching and pastoral work. 
Here he is with the children in the great world of 
romance, imagination, make-believe; and it is all 

vii 



viii INTRODUCTION 

so child-like, that a child might have written. That 
is the greatest charm of the book. Very cleverly 
too, he gets in his moral, his quiet hint at a lesson 
to be drawn, without ever seeming to preach. I 
believe that Mothers everywhere will welcome 
these Parables for their children; and I am sure 
the children will get genuine delight in reading 
them. 

G. Campbell Morgan. 



FOREWORD 

New Court Church, of which the author is 
minister, is one of the famous London churches 
founded in 1662, during the time of the Puritans, 
and quaint old Eichard Baxter was among its 
early ministers. The original site near Fleet 
Street is now occupied by the Law Courts, and 
the present spacious sanctuary has been the 
sphere of some notable ministers. World-famed 
men like Dr. Campbell Morgan, Ossian Davies, 
and A. C. Hill have been its pastors, and of their 
successor the British Weekly says: "That very 
able young minister at Tollington Park, the Rev. 
J. W. G. Ward, can gather round him on a hot 
June evening a congregation which fills his church, 
even to the farthest window-seats of the galleries. 
There is a very stimulating earnestness of purpose 
in Mr. Ward's methods.' ' And these Parables 
have gained such golden opinions for their 
originality and charm, that they are published in 
response to a widely-expressed desire. 





CONTENTS 










PAGE 


I 


The Secret of Success . . 






15 


II 


A Chat About the Clock . 






20 


III 


The Road to Happiness . . 






24 


IV 


The Heart op a Hero 






. 29 


V 


A Tale op a Tot-shop . : . 






33 


VI 


The A. 0. T. C. . . . . 






37 


VII 


The February Face . . . 






, 41 


VIII 


The Sunbeam 






. 45 


IX 


The Queer Comrade . . . 






, 49 


X 


The Fairies in the Fire . 






. 53 


XI 


The Pirates 






. 57 


XII 


Faithful Unto Death . 






61 


XIII 


Mournful Max, the Miser . 






64 


XIV 


Ladies First .... 






. 69 


XV 


The Quickening Kiss 






. 72 


XVI 


The Holy Grail . 






. 76 


XVII 


The River and the Pool . 






. 79 


XVIII 


The Finger-Posts 






. 83 



XI 



xii CONTENTS 



PAGE 



XIX The Two Planters 86 

XX Mark the Merry . .. ; . m . . 91 

XXI Growing ........ 95 

XXII Caesar's Collar ...... 99 

XXIII The Quest of the Silver Key . . 102 

XXIV God's Garden 106 

XXV The Awakening of Aristobulus . 109 

XXVI The Bear's Tail ...... 113 

XXVII Are Your Feet Shod? . . ... . 117 

XXVIII The Fairy Queen 120 

XXIX Myra of the Magic Touch . . . 124 

XXX Sharp as a Needle 127 

XXXI The Mission of the Mignonette . 130 

XXXII The Two Dogs 135 

XXXIII The Poppies in the Corn ... 139 

XXXIV Camouflage ....... 142 

XXXV The Helpers . . 145 

XXXVI The Quarrelsome Giants . . . 149 

XXXVII The Pathfinder 152 

XXXVIII Our Daily Bread 154 

XXXIX The Red Rebel 157 





CONTENTS 


• • • 
Xlll 


XL 


Glum or Glad? 


P A OE 

. 160 


XLI 


The Wizard of the Woods . . . 


163 


XLII 


Plating the Game . . . . ,. 


, 167 


XLIII 


Why the Leaves Pall . . ,. . 


172 


XLIV 


Chrysanthemums ..,.,. „ : . 


177 


XLV 


The Good Shepherd ...... 


. 180 


XLVI 


The Poet and the Potter . . . 


185 


XLVII 


Kobin Redbreast ..... ■. . 


. 189 


XLVIII 


The League of Light-givers t . . 


. 194 


XLIX 


Lessons of the Snow . . . . 


199 


L 


The Stricken Soldier . . . . 


. 205 


LI 


A Strange Noel ....... 


209 


LII 


The Man Whom Nobody Loved . „ 


. 214 



PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 



Where truth in closest words shall fail, 
Truth embodied in a tale, 
Shall enter in at lowly doors. 

— Tennyson. 



PARABLES FOR LITTLE 

PEOPLE 



THE SECRET OF SUCCESS 

SOHRAB was just like you. He wanted to make 
a success of his life. But his parents being 
dead, he had no one to help him, except the old 
lady with whom he lived. When he asked her the 
secret of success, she would shake her head and 
say, " Ah ! that is more than I ever learnt. No one 
knows that, unless it be the great ones, and even 
if they know, they will not tell!" 

Sometimes the boy wandered into the Senate, 
and listened to the wise men there, but if they 
knew the secret, they took good care to hide it. 
And of all the folk he asked, none could give him 
the answer he sought. 

One night, as Sohrab lay awake, thinking of 
what he meant to be when he grew up, he was 
startled by a bright light. It may have been the 
moon, but as he looked, a beautiful lady stepped 
out of the silvery beam, and said, " You called me ! 
What can I do!" 

15 



16 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

The little fellow was about to tell her she was 
mistaken, when he remembered just in time that it 
is always rude to contradict a lady, and so he 
asked, "But who are you?" 

The lady smiled. "I am the Fairy of a child's 
wish. If there is anything you want more than 
another, I can give it you — provided it is for your 
good." 

"What a splendid chance!" thought Sohrab. 
1 i Did she know the secret of success ? At any rate, 
there was no harm in asking her. " And so he told 
her what he wanted to know more than anything 
else in the world. 

The Fairy looked puzzled for a moment. Then 
she said, "No one can tell you that. You must 
discover it for yourself ! ' ' Then she added, as she 
saw the disappointment in the boy's face, "But 
I may be able to help you to find the secret. Shall 
we try together?" 

She led the way to the palace of a prince. It 
was a beautiful place, all granite and gold, and 
numbers of servants were flitting about the rooms, 
getting ready for the prince's return. Some were 
arranging flowers in vases. Others were laying the 
table in the huge banqueting hall with costly ves- 
sels of gold, while each one seemed to know 
exactly what he had to do, and went on with his 
work without paying any attention to the Fairy or 
the boy. 

"See anything of the secret?" she whispered in 
Sohrab 's ear. 

"No," replied he, "unless you mean that one 
must work for the prince in order to be successful. 
Is that it?" 



THE SECRET OF SUCCESS 17 

"Not exactly,' ' said the Fairy, "but let us try 
again. ' 9 

They left the hall, and round by the stables some 
grooms were breaking-in a number of Arab horses 
for the prince 's use. The boy was delighted as he 
watched the antics of the horses, trying to throw 
the men from their backs, for they had never been 
ridden before. But when all their efforts proved 
in vain, the horses would come back flecked with 
foam, but conquered, and the grooms could do 
anything with them. 

"Is the secret here, do you think?" asked the 
Fairy. 

"I don't know," said Sohrab, "unless you mean 
that the boy who would succeed must first learn 
to obey." 

' ' That is quite true, and I am glad you saw that 
much, but we have not yet got the whole secret. 
Suppose we have still another try." 

He was feeling a little discouraged as the Fairy 
led him away, but it was some comfort at least 
to know that she was trying to help him. But 
where was she taking him now ? They had stopped 
at a long, low building beyond the stables, and 
when they peeped in, they saw a man with dozens 
and dozens of lamps that he was trimming and 
cleaning. 

It was the lamp-room of the palace. There were 
small lamps and tall lamps. Some were of fine 
wrought gold, and others of plain metal. And it 
took the man all day getting them ready for 
evening. 

Sohrab noticed that when the man had filled and 
finished a lamp, he would light it and leave it 



18 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

burning until he was ready with the next. Then 
he would light that, and put out the first. This 
was the way he tested them, to see that they were 
quite in order for the palace. 

"What a fine array you have," said the Fairy. 
"Will you light them all, and let my friend see 
what they can do altogether?" 

The man seemed to know the Fairy, for he at 
once closed the shutters and taking a taper, he 
lighted every lamp he had ready. The dark room 
blazed and flashed as though it were the palace of 
the sun itself! 

"But has this anything to do with the secret?" 
asked the boy of the Fairy. "Even with all the 
lamps lit, I can't see anything of it!" 

She smiled as though she thought he were jest- 
ing, but in reality she was sorry for him. "Let 
us have a chat together," she said, leading the way 
to the grounds. "Now tell me what we have seen." 

"Well, first we saw the prince's servants all 
as busy as bees." 

" Yes, " the Fairy said. ' ' And what next ? ' ' 

i i The horses trying to throw their riders — and 
they couldn't." 

1 ' Quite right ! And now ? ' ' 

"All the palace lamps alight." 

"Then can't you put the three together and 
guess what they mean?" 

"I wish I could," said the boy. 

"Then we must try together," she said encour- 
agingly. "The servants intent on doing their 
prince's bidding mean for you: Do right! The 
riders, keeping the saddle in spite of all the horses 
could do, mean: Hold tight! And the lamps 



THE SECRET OF SUCCESS 19 

showed us that even the tiniest flame has its part 
in chasing away the gloom. That means: Be 
bright ! 

"Do Right! Hold Tight! Be Bright! That is 
the secret of success as far as mortals may know 
it!" 



A CHAT ABOUT THE CL9CK 

YOU may have heard people speak of a clock 
as a good one, but do you know what clock- 
goodness is? The two things are not quite the 
same. 

Of course, a clock has a nice clean face, but then 
yours is always clean, even though it is not kept 




under a glass like the clock's. The clock goes on 
with its work whether anyone is looking or not, 
but you never want watching, for you always get 
your lessons done, and you have never to be re- 
minded to do what mother told you. The clock 
keeps its hands out of mischief, and it never 
strikes anyone. Even when it strikes the hour, 
the hands do not do the striking. But I can tell 

20 



A CHAT ABOUT THE CLOCK 21 

you what they do. They are very wonderful hands, 
for they can teach us what clock-goodness means. 
The hands teach us good behaviour : Twice in 
every twenty-four hours, the hands point straight 
up and down. That means 6 o'clock, but it means 
something else. Can you guess what? Straight 
up and down means we must be upright in conduct ; 
down-right in duty. We must strive to do the 
right, and we must do it with our might. Being 
down-right in duty means working hard at our 




lessons and never complaining when we have to 
do something that is hard or unpleasant. But 
there ! You are always like the clock in that ! 

Those hands teach us to pray, for at the be- 
ginning of each day, say one minute past 12 a. m., 
again, at 12 noon, and again at 12 midnight, the 
clock puts its hands together before its face just 
like a child saying its prayers. Is that too often? 
No one says his prayers in the middle of the day? 
Well, you will find that one brave man used to 
pray three times every day, although the king had 
forbidden it altogether. His name was Daniel. 



22 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

Here is just another thing. They teach us how 
to be helpful. Twice every twelve hours — at 9-15 
and 2-45, you see them stretched out as though 
they were saying, "Here are two hands willing to 
do any good we can. We are ready to carry or 
lift, ready to do a little kindness for anyone, ready 
for any duty the day may bring ! ' ' And this is the 
readiness that pleases mother so much. How de- 
lighted she would be if you really tried to help 
her — and did it willingly, too! Just fancy how 




she would feel if you were to go to her before you 
went out for that game of which you are so fond 
and said, "Is there anything you want me to do 
before I go?" What a light would come into her 
face ! 

It is worth trying to be as good as the clock! 
And you can easily remember what the clock says, 
for it is : 

Hands up and down RIGHTEOUSNESS 

Hands together REVERENCE 

Hands open wide READINESS 



A CHAT ABOUT THE CLOCK 23 

And as you are now getting big, you will know 
that just as the hands of the clock depend on what 
is going on behind the face, so our hands move 
according to the heart. "Keep thy heart with all 
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." 



in 

THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 

PIERRE was a strange fellow, and no mistake. 
He always found something to grumble about. 
"A nice day I" one of his neighbours might re- 
mark, but Pierre would reply something about it 
raining before night. Or if someone said that the 
crops were good, the old man would argue that 
they might be a lot better — and so on. 

People got to dislike Pierre for this. "If there's 
anything wrong,' ' they said, "he's sure to find 
it; or if there isn't, then he'll make it." So they 
crossed the road when they saw him coming, or 
suddenly remembered they were in a hurry. And 
Pierre noticed all this. It made him sad, for 
strange to say, he wanted to be happy like other 
people, and he knew that this trick of complaining 
was costing him many a friend. 

One day, a stranger spoke to him as he stood 
by the gate of his cottage. ' ' Lovely view you have 
from here ! ' ' said the traveller. 

Pierre stared at him and then replied, "Well, 
I can't say that I've ever noticed it before, but 
we do get a terrible lot of fog in these parts." 

"Never noticed it!" said the traveller in 
astonishment. "Why, you'll tell me next you've 
never noticed what a bonny lot of children you 
have about here. What ? ' ' 

24 



THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 25 

But Pierre had noticed them all right, though 
he had seldom thought about their looks. All he 
knew was that they annoyed him with their noisy 
play, and sometimes he wished 

The stranger broke in on his thoughts. "Say, 
what 's the matter with you, my friend ? You must 
excuse me saying so, but you look about the most 
miserable man I've ever met. Perhaps you're not 
well?" 

Now in the ordinary way, Pierre would have 
been vexed if any of his neighbours had spoken 
to him like that, but there was something about 
this traveller that made the old man's heart warm 
to him, and the result was that Pierre told him all 
his troubles. He was always hunting for happi- 
ness, but try as he would he could never find it, 
and so he was gradually becoming a nuisance to 
everyone because of his habit of grumbling. 

"I know the very thing," said the man with a 
smile. "There's a place over the hill where they 
cure people of the miserables. It is called the 
School of Happiness. Why don't you try it?" 

That was something new to Pierre, so next 
morning he set off. He found the place without 
much trouble and pulled the bell. After a few 
moments, the door was opened by a jolly-looking 
porter who said, ' ' This way, please ! ' ' 

How did he know what the old man wanted? 
It must have been the look on his face. Anyway, 
he led Pierre down a long, long passage till they 
came to a door. "You are looking for the secret 
of happiness, aren't you? Well, open that door 
and you '11 discover it. Ring the bell inside when 



26 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

yon are ready to go. No, there's nothing to pay ! ,f 
And with that, the porter was gone. 

Open the door! It was more easily said than 
done. Old Pierre tried it. It was locked and he 
could not see any key. He felt along the top ledge 
of the door. Then he looked under the mat. No 
key ! Happy thought ! Perhaps there was one on 
his own bunch that would do. So after trying 
six or seven, he found one that fitted. The lock 
gave and the door was open. 

Wondering what it all meant, Pierre stumbled 
into a small room flooded with sunshine. But the 
room was quite bare except for a long table by 
one wall. On this were scores and scores of beau- 
tiful ornaments, vases and bowls. Some were fine 
porcelain, and others cut glass, but he noticed that 
every one he picked up had either a crack or a 
flaw or else a piece was chipped out. 

He was interested, for he was fond of collecting 
old china and glass. "I wonder what these are 
for?" he mused. "It's a pity they are imperfect 
like this. They would be valuable but for the 
flaws. There !" he said, turning one of the pieces 
with the blemish to the back, "one can't see any- 
thing wrong with that now. But I mustn 't waste 
time over these. This is not what I've come for. 
Where's this wonderful secret?" 

Pierre was puzzled. He looked along the table, 
under it, round it, on the window-sill, but no secret 
could he find. And then he got vexed. He thought 
someone was playing a prank on him, so he de- 
termined to have nothing more to do with the 
matter, but to get back home. 



THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 27 

He strode to the door, but to his dismay, he 
found it had swung shut behind him, and in his 
excitement he had left his keys hanging outside 
in the lock. He was a prisoner ! 

He rang the bell furiously, and after what 
seemed quite a long time, he heard footsteps in 
the passage. The door opened, and a laughing 
face looked in. "So you have discovered it!" 

"Look here!" said Pierre, "What's the mean- 
ing of this? As soon as I get back, I shall tell the 
police — shutting people up here and pretending 
to teach them the way of happiness. Monstrous, 
I call it!" 

"Just a minute! Just a minute!" replied the 
porter. "Sit down and I'll explain everything. 
Beg pardon, of course you can't. I forgot there's 
no chair. But you've got the secret all right — 
when you like to use it!" 

Pierre started to stammer something, but the 
porter took not the slightest notice and went on, 
"First of all, you had to unlock the door for your- 
self : everyone carries a key somewhere about him 
that will do it. And then, wondering what it all 
meant, you saw the flaws in these ornaments. Well, 
there's a flaw in most things in this world, or a 
crack, and you have to look for the beauty that 
is there as well for those who can see it. Yes, look 
for the beauty — and turn the crack to the back ! ' ' 

"You jnean that is the secret?" broke in Pierre. 

"To be sure it is ! Look for the best in people, 
and for the beautiful things in the world and not 
only will you find them, but you will find the way 
of happiness as well ! ' ' 



28 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Don't look for the flaws as you go through life, 
And even when you find them, 
It is wise and kind to be sometimes blind, 
And seek for the virtue behind them !" 

1 ■ Well, I declare ! Turn the crack to the back ! f J 
chuckled Pierre as he trudged home. 



IV 

THE HEAET OF A HERO 

FRANK was not what you would call a hero, 
though he badly wanted to be one. That was 
his greatest wish! But then, he lived in a dull, 
factory town, with drab streets, and houses hud- 
dled together as though they were frightened of 
the great works that sent out black smoke just like 
so many dragons. 

Frank had no father, and so to keep the little 
home going, his mother had to take in sewing 
from one of the warehouses. All day long, and 
sometimes far into the night, too, you might have 
heard the sewing-machine buzzing away in the one 
room that was called home. 

The boy used to go to school most days. It was 
not that he liked it, but he knew that he must learn 
so that he could work for his mother when he grew 
up. There was one thing, however, that he did 
like about school. He could read there about fa- 
mous men who had done daring deeds and who 
had left behind them a great example. Drake, the 
dashing sailor, and Captain Cook, Robin Hood 
and his merry men, Nelson and Wellington, and 
many more were all favourites. But he did not 
stop with these — pirates and bushrangers, travel- 
lers and explorers, all delighted the boy who 
wanted to be a hero and do something great. 

29 



30 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

You can guess how tired Frank became of the 
tiny room in which he lived when he had read of 
the rolling seas and the towering mountains, for 
the only thing he could see from the window was a 
roof with some chimney-stacks. 

The truth is, he was just a bit discontented with 
his lot, and the work he had to do made him feel 
that he could never be anything much. What 
work? We must whisper this, for Frank would 
not like anyone to know of it. His mother had 
taught him to sew ! And when he got home from 
school, the poor old boy had to set to work, sewing 
the buttons on the garments his mother had made. 
It was nearly as bad as carrying the bundles of 
finished work back to the factory and hearing the 
other boys laughing at him as they played in the 
street. He did wish he could be a hero and get 
away from it all ! 

One day, he had a great idea. There was a min- 
ister who lived near Frank's school. He preached 
in the little chapel with the tin roof and the queer 
poke-bonnet windows, and Frank had heard that, 
like your minister, he loved girls and boys, and 
wanted to be their friend. So Frank made up his 
mind to go and see him, and ask him how to make 
dreams come true. 

He was shown into a room with rows and rows 
of books all standing straight like policemen on 
parade and looking very severe. "I guess there's 
something in those books about Robin Hood and 
all those fellows," said the boy to himself. But 
he had not time to think about them any more, for 
just then in walked the minister. 

Frank saw that he was such a kindly old gentle- 



THE HEART OF A HERO 31 

man that he told him at once all about his home, 
the work he had to do, and the plans he had 
formed, and he went on, "You see, sir, I don't 
much care what it is, whether I'm a pirate or an 
outlaw, a soldier or a sailor, but I've got to be a 
hero!" Then he stopped. What would the min- 
ister think of him, talking like that? 

The old gentleman did not laugh. Instead, he 
just smiled and said, i ' Quite right, my boy ! But 
you have got the idea wrong. The answer to your 
question, Where can I be a hero and how? is in the 
very word, only you must turn it round. A hero? 
— 0, here! You can be heroic by doing your duty 
like a man, and helping your mother just where 
you are ! ' ' 

Frank's face fell. This was not the answer he 
expected, but his friend went on, "You have the 
hero head ; what you need is the hero heart. Men 
show their bravery by fighting and all that, and 
you must fight against sin and everything that is 
wrong. I want you to be too much of a hero to 
shirk your duty because it means something you 
don't like. Think how heroic your mother must 
be, working so hard for you. You must show her 
that you, too, can be brave about those bundles, 
that you are hero enough to help her. It is ever 
so much better than grieving her by grumbling 
because you can't have just what you want. . . . 
And look here ! You must be a real hero not by 
going away to some foreign land to do great 
things, but by doing them here!" 

Of course, Frank was greatly disappointed. He 
had thought that the good man would show him 
the way at once to make his dreams come true. 



3« PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

But when his mother got back from the warehouse 
that night, what do you think she found? The 
table was laid for tea, and an eager voice said as 
well as it could, considering the piece of bread 
and butter that was in the way, for Frank had 
cut a chunk just to help him to wait, "I say, 
Mother, you look tired ! I 'm doing the lion 's share 
of the work after tea, while you rest a bit!" 

She did not know what it meant, for she had no 
idea where Frank had called on his way home 
from school, but when she heard him humming: 

"I want to be a hero and bravely take my stand 
Wherever duty calls me, or work awaits my hand," 

she felt like joining in. 

After all, I think the old minister was right. 
Don't you? The hero-head is good, but the hero- 
heart is better ! 



A TALE OF A TOY-SHOP 

TEIS toy-shop was a favourite place. The chil- 
dren who had plenty of pennies knew it well, 
but those who had none seemed to know it better 
for they would flatten their noses against the win- 
dows, and with their grubby fingers point out the 
toys that belonged to them! 

Now in one window were two fierce-looking ani- 
mals with brown shaggy coats. One was a bear 
named Teddy; the other, a dog called Tubby and 
he had great rolling eyes that made him look ^ery 
wise. They both liked to be admired by the chil- 
dren, but I do not think it was good for either of 
them, for it made them rather vain and a tiny bit 
quarrelsome. 

Well, one evening, just before closing time, the 
shopkeeper had all the things taken out, so that 
the window could be cleaned and rearranged, and 
the toys were laid on one of the counters. 

This greatly annoyed both the bear and the 
dog. It meant they might lose the place they had 
enjoyed in the front of the window, and the chil- 
dren would admire them no more. So as the rivals 
sat there, side by side, on the counter, anyone 
could see that trouble was brewing. 

The shop was locked up, and everything was 

33 



34 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

quiet for a time, until the bear said crossly, "This 
is all your fault !" (You are never as cross as a 
bear, are you?) 

"What do you mean?" asked the dog. 

"Well, you call yourself the friend of man, but 
no one seems to want you or you would have been 
sold. I don't believe you are anything of the 
sort!" 

Now if the dog had been as sensible as girls 
and boys are when their school-mates say unkind 
things, he would have taken no notice. At any 
rate, he ought to have known that it takes two to 
make a quarrel. But he was no better than the 
bear, and he retorted, "I don't call myself the 
king of the forest, anyway, like you do. Who gave 
you the right to a name like that? Why, you 
growl if anyone touches you ! ' ' 

"What right have I? Well, imagine that!" 
answered the bear. "Do you know that I can climb 
high trees, and that when I take my foes in my 
arms they cry for mercy ? Everyone is afraid of 
me. But you — why you run after the first one that 
whistles you. Compare your paltry paws with 
mine ! I am king of the beasts ! ' ? 

"Or else a beast of a king," replied the dog. 

With that, the bear seized Tubby in a great 
hug. They snapped and snarled, grunted and 
growled, as they struggled together upon the 
counter, while the rest of the toys looked on with 
scorn and amusement. 

Then something happened. In their anger, both 
animals had forgotten how narrow the counter 
was, and suddenly they rolled over and fell down, 
down, down, with a terrible bump to the floor. 



A TALE OF A TOY-SHOP 35 

But that was not the worst of it. It had been 
raining heavily that afternoon, and a lady who 
wanted a doll for a sick child, had stood her um- 
brella against that counter, so that a nice pool had 
formed there. 

The bear and the dog fell right into this with 
a mighty splash! They were wet through, and 
having hurt their limbs as well as their pride 
neither felt like quarrelling any more. Teddy did 
not look much like a king, and Tubby was not 
the kind of friend you would have cared to own. 

As they lay there, they could hear the other toys 
talking. The sailor-boy was telling the little girl 
doll in the pink frock what he thought. "It's a 
pity that those who have such a good opinion of 
themselves cannot behave like sensible mortals,' ' 
he said. And she laughingly replied, "Oh, it is 
always the way. Those who pretend they are 
better than others behave worse. Teddy is a bit 
of a beast, but Tubby ought to have known better. " 

The two culprits felt very miserable, and you 
may be sure they were glad when morning came, 
and the shop door opened. But when the man saw 
Teddy and Tubby lying on the floor, looking so 
dirty, wet, and doleful, he said angrily, "Hello, 
what's this? Who is going to buy these things 
now? " He grasped one in each hand, and turning 
to one of his assistants, he said, "Just put these 
by the fire, please. We must dry them and see 
what we can do. ' ' 

After a very hot time, the two animals felt more 
ashamed than ever. "This comes of boasting,' ' 
said the bear. ' ' Yes, ' ' replied the other, ' ' but it 's 



36 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

all my fault. Let's be friends again ! ' ' And when 
no one was looking they shook hands. 

Then the shopkeeper placed them side by side 
again, and put a ticket over their heads that pro- 
claimed their silly conduct, for it read: 

SHOP SOILED — GREATLY REDUCED. 

And indeed they were. There is nothing that 
soils the heart and reduces our happiness like ill- 
temper, and though the two animals are good 
friends now, each would say if you asked him : 

"To folk be kind, to faults be blind, 
And never say, I'm best !" 



VI 

THE A. 0. T. C. 

IT was one evening during the great war, that 
just as Kenneth was going to bed, a letter 
came, and as it was from his big brother at the 
front, mother let him stay till it was read aloud, 
Then he was hurried off, much against his will, 
for it was getting late. 

However, it was a good thing he had to hurry, 
for Kenneth had only just closed his eyes when 
the Angel of The Children came. 

"Are you really the A. 0. T. C.?" Kenneth 
asked. 

"What ever is that?" laughed the Angel. 

"Why, it means the Angel of The Children, and 
my brother always puts letters like that instead 
of names. We have heard from him to-night, and 
he says something about the R. A. M. C. and the 
A. 0. T. C." 

"Then I suppose I am the A. 0. T. C," replied 
his visitor. "But can you guess why I have 
come ? I would like to know what you are going 
to be!" 

"Well, I want to be a soldier," said the boy. 

The Angel smiled. "Just what I thought! Then 
let us go." 

They came to a lonely place among the hills, 

37 



38 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

where a number of rough-looking men sat round 
a fire. Kenneth had never seen anyone half as 
fierce as they were, but he did not tell the Angel 
that! 

"These," said the messenger, "are the foes you 
must fight ! Keep quiet and listen ! ' ' 

A great stout man was saying, "But IVe al- 
ready told you, the boy is going to obey me," 

"Is he ? " interrupted another, who was a most 
disagreeable-looking fellow with limbs all twisted 
and bent. ' ' That lad belongs to me, so leave him 
alone. Why, he 's been on my side for quite a long 
time." 

"Nonsense!" a third put in. "You are both 
wrong, for that particular young gentleman 
agreed to enter my service months ago. ? 9 

The last speaker was lying on the ground lazily, 
and Kenneth noticed what an untidy, dirty fellow 
he looked. His hair was long and matted. His 
nails were like talons, and his clothes were all torn 
and muddy. 

As the rest of the company quarrelled over the 
mysterious boy, the Angel beckoned him away. 

"Who are those horrible men, and why have 
I to fight them?" the boy asked as soon as they 
were a few yards off. 

" Don 't you know ? ' * The Angel looked troubled. 
i i That stout man is Greed ; the other, all twisted 
and deformed, is Spite, sometimes called Old 
Crossface; and that untidy fellow on the ground 
is Laziness. The others are all bad habits of one 
kind or another. You heard them claiming a 
certain boy. The boy is you." 



THE A. O. T. C. 39 

"Pm afraid I can never conquer them all," 
sighed the boy. 

"Afraid? And you a soldier? Look! the day 
is breaking ; we must hasten. ' ' 

They came to a castle which shone in the sun 
as though it were made of gold, and the Angel 
led the way through the gates, past the hall, up a 
wide staircase till they paused at a door over 
which Kenneth read : 

"Take unto you the whole armour of God." 

It was the armoury. Here there were hundreds 
of shields, and swords, helmets and coats of mail, 
and the boy's eyes danced with delight when he 
saw what the Angel was doing. 

From the various shelves and racks, he was 
taking out an equipment — a suit of armour, a hel- 
met just the right size for a boy. And after Ken- 
neth had donned these at the AngePs bidding, 
the A. 0. T. C. buckled a sword round the boy ? s 
waist, and put a shield in his hand. 

"I say, that's fine! Now I can fight," he ex- 
claimed. ' * Good-bye ! ' ' 

"One moment!" said the Angel. "There is 
something else I want to show you." 

He guided the boy along the gallery where 
countless pictures hung, and Kenneth thought he 
would never stop, for he found it rather awkward 
to walk in his armour. But at last, they stood 
before a great canvas. It showed a king in golden 
armour, mounted on a snow-white steed, and fol- 
lowed by a number of knights clad in the same 
way. 

"You know who that is?" the Angel asked. "He 
is your Leader, and those knights who follow Him 



40 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

are pledged to fight against greed, ill-temper, and 
every sinful habit. Will you follow Him too?" 

Kenneth looked at the figure in silence for a 
moment. Then drawing his sword, he saluted 
just as he had seen the Lifeguards do. "Yes! I 
promise. I will try to follow Him and fight for 
Him every day ! ' ' 

And with a glad smile, the A. 0. T. C. had van- 
ished. 



vn 

THE FEBRUARY FACE 

HAVE you ever seen anyone with a February 
face? What, you do not know what it is? 
Well, in one of Shakespeare's stories, that you 
will read when you grow older, there is a man who 
meets another who is looking very cross, and he 
says : 

"Why, what's the matter 
That you have such a February face, 
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?" 

There was once a little fellow who was travel- 
ling to this earth. The journey was a long one. 
It took him 31 days, and he had no idea that 
it was so far. So you can guess that he was nearly 
as impatient to reach his destination as you are 
to get to the next school holiday. 

When his train arrived, it was quite early in 
the morning. In fact, it was not yet light. And he 
was as cross as could be. I have noticed that it 
is generally first thing in the morning, just when 
we get up, that most of us are a little — never mind, 
we will let that pass. 

When the traveller came out of the station, the 
street was deserted. The lamps blinked very 
sleepily at him, as though they had just woke up, 

41 



42 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

and the only person he could see was a policeman. 
So he took his courage in both hands and went up 
to him. 

"Excuse me, officer. Are you what they call 
a 'sp.ecial'?" 

"No! my little man, I'm not. Are you?" he 
added, for he was fond of a bit of fun. 

"In a way I am. That is, I am some one of 
special importance. And by the way, please do 
not ' little man' me," replied the traveller, trying 
to look very tall. 

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the officer, salut- 
ing. "Is there anything I can do?" 

"I was wondering if you had seen anyone wait- 
ing for me — a crowd, for instance. The fact is, 
I was expecting to be met by quite a large number 
of friends. My brother was, I understand." 

The policeman looked very thoughtful. Then 
he said, thinking that perhaps this was some royal 
personage, "Who might your brother be, sir?" 
The policeman thought this was rather a clever 
way of asking the traveller who he was. 

"My brother's name is Jan. He came here 
about a month ago, and I heard that he had a great 
reception. Most of the town turned out to greet 
him, and some people even stayed up half the 
night to see him. But there's no one to meet me. 
I think it's a shame!" 

"Well," remarked the policeman, "I think I 
know who you are now. Your brother did have 
a fair number of people to meet him. Not as 
many as I have seen on some occasions, but don't 
you trouble!" 

"I am not troubling," said the other, "at least, 



THE FEBRUARY FACE 43 

not about that. But I am every bit as important 
as be, and yet no one seems to bother about me 
or my luggage. I '11 tell you who I am. My name 's 
Feb Ru Ary. Ever heard of me before ? ' ' 

"The name's familiar, but it sounds a bit for- 
eign. You are not an alien, are you?" 

"Rather not!" replied the other angrily. 

The policeman felt sorry for the lonely little 
fellow, so he said, "If I were you, sir, I'd just 
wait about a bit. Perhaps somebody will turn 
up." 

While Feb. waited, he became more miserable 
and cross than ever. I have often found that the 
more we think about unpleasant things, the bigger 
they seem. Soon he was sulking so much that it 
became quite cloudy, and the more he thought of 
his grievances, the worse he felt, till a storm 
arose, and a chill wind with a nip of frost in it 
swept across the sky. 

Two men who were passing on their way to 
work remarked, " It 's cloudy and cold ! Well, you 
can't expect anything better from old February, 
can you?" 

Do you know anyone with a February face? 
Ever look in the mirror when you feel cross? I 
know that when some people feel slighted, they 
brood over their wrongs, instead of making the 
best of things. So the clouds form, and the storm 
rises, and a chill frost blights everything, and the 
earth is sad. And it is just because like poor old 
Feb., they 

F ret about what happens, 

E nvy others who seem better off, 

B light everyone's happiness by getting cross. 



44 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

And so they get a February face. But if you want 
to be bright and happy, then 

F orget the disagreeables, 

E nter into all you do — lessons or play — gladly 

B anish all bitter thoughts at once. 

Then your face will be bright with the happiness 
within, and people will be glad to see you coming 
their way. 

"For every day is a fresh beginning; 
Every morn is the world made new." 



vni 

THE SUNBEAM 

ISN'T it time we had a holiday?" asked the 
sunbeams one morning in their home high above 
the world. i ' We have been on duty long enough, ' ' 
said one, "and now that the flowers are over and 
the harvests in, I don't see why we should be 
always at it." 

" Quite right!" chimed in the others. "We 
won't shine again till we feel like it. People don't 
think enough about what we do, so let them miss 
us awhile." 

"I don't want to be disagreeable," said one little 
beam that had been standing apart, "but I think 
you are wrong. People do appreciate what we do. 
I know they are glad to see us, and if the flowers 
are over that is all the more reason why we should 
try to brighten up the world. No holiday for 
me!" 

"All right," said the rest. "Off you go! We'll 
see who has the best time." 

Like an airman making for earth, Sunbeam 
came swiftly travelling through clouds and smoke 
till he reached a grey and gloomy city. It was 
quite early, but the people who were going to the 
mills seemed glad to see him, and he thought one 
of them nodded in quite a friendly way. 

45 



46 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Now that I've come, what am I going to do 
with myself ?" thought he. "I haven't got very- 
long, and I want to do someone a good turn to- 
day.' ' 

As he looked about, he noticed that right op- 
posite stood a number of houses that had once 
seen better days. The street was shabby and the 
people that passed looked poor. 

"Wonder if there's anyone about here who 
wants cheering up?" He peered through a win- 
dow, and there on a wretched bed lay a little fellow 
with such pale cheeks. Sunbeam saw that the 
room was bare and comfortless and he felt very 
sorry for the sick boy, so he hopped on the bed. 

The little chap's face brightened up at once, 
and they had a fine game together, for the boy's 
wasted fingers were trying to get hold of Sun- 
beam, as though he wanted to keep the golden bar 
of light forever. And the beam danced and dodged 
till the boy laughed right out at his antics. No 
matter how swiftly the hand moved, the beam was 
always too clever and it escaped. 

At last it was time for Sunbeam to say good- 
bye. You know, sunbeams can never stay very 
long in the same place. But it made the beam's 
heart glad to see the colour in the boy's thin 
cheeks, and to hear his merry laugh. 

"Well, good-bye for the present," he said to 
the boy. And as he got out into the street, he said 
to himself, "That is a good beginning for my day. 
Now I wonder what's next?" 

After a time, Sunbeam found himself before a 
lot of warehouses and offices. They looked as 
though they had never seen the sun, for they were 



THE SUNBEAM 47 

so dark and grey, but that was all the more reason 
why Sunbeam should spend a little time there if 
he could do any good. But could he? That was 
the question. 

Looking through a keyhole, Sunbeam saw a man 
sitting at a desk and looking very unhappy. He 
was resting his head on his hand, and he said to 
himself, "Things seem to be going from bad to 
worse." 

Something must have been troubling him. What 
it was I do not know, but that was enough for 
Sunbeam. With a bit of a wriggle, he found that 
he could get through the keyhole, and he mounted 
the desk, looking up into the man's face, and 
waiting for him to notice. 

"I wish I could cheer him up," said Sunbeam. 
And just at that moment, the man opened his eyes, 
and leaping off his stool, he said, "What's the use 
of looking on the dark side like this? Why, I de- 
clare, the sun's shining. I must pull myself to- 
gether and have another try ! ' ' 

He started hurrying about his office, and got out 
his ledgers, while Sunbeam sat there enjoying the 
fun. Before he left, though you will hardly be- 
lieve it, the man was humming a tune. 

"Good turn No. 2," chuckled Sunbeam slipping 
out into the street. ' ' Say, I 'm having a great time 
to-day! I'm jolly glad I came. What's next, I 
wonder?" 

While he was making up his mind which way to 
go, he heard some boys shouting, and there a dog 
came tearing along the street like mad. Its tongue 
was hanging out, while its tail was so far between 
its legs with fright that it was almost tripping 



48 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

him. And these lads were chasing him with stones 
and shouting till he was scared out of his wits. 

"What should be done?" Sunbeam suddenly 
thought of a plan. He hid round the corner where 
the dog had run, and just as the first boy came 
up, out flashed the beam into his eyes. He was 
dazzled. He stopped. The others stopped, too, 
to see what was the matter — and the dog had got 
away ! 

"Cheerio!" cried Sunbeam. "I never guessed 
there was so much fun in doing good turns for peo- 
ple. I wish I could stay here forever ! ' ' 

That was impossible. It was getting late. Peo- 
ple were now going home from work, and Sunbeam 
had to get back too. Yet as he danced along the 
pavement he noticed how the tired faces lighted 
up at the sight of him. And when he met his 
friends after sunset he said, "Well, what kind of 
a day have you all had? I've had the time of my 
life!" 



IX 

THE QUEEE COMEADE 

THERE was great excitement in the city. 
Groups of people were talking in the market- 
place, and while the beards of the talkers wagged, 
the eyes of the listeners opened wider and wider. 

"But I know/' said one man. "I saw the men 
with my own eyes. They were measuring and 
planning out there, and they told me that the king 
himself was coming to live here. ' ' 

Now the king of that land had reigned long, 
but few had seen him, for he seldom left the cap- 
ital. So the news that he was actually coming to 
live in this city made a great stir, and sure enough, 
before many weeks had passed, huge wagons of 
materials and thousands of masons, carpenters 
and labourers arrived. 

The months went by. The walls began to ap- 
pear, and after a long time, at last the palace 
stood complete. It was built of purest marble. 
Its columns were of costly stone, and the gates 
shone like gold, while the magnificent furniture 
that came, the rich carpets from India and Persia, 
the Arab chargers for the king, and the gold coach 
for his use, almost took the people's breath away. 

One day, the word went round that the king had 
come. No one had seen him arrive, but a man 
whose brother knew another man who had a friend 

49 



50 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

at court said so, and of course, it was bound to be 
true. But while they were talking about it, a 
herald in gorgeous uniform rode into the square, 
and blowing a mighty blast on his bugle, he made 
a proclamation : 

"The King has come! Long live the King! Be it 
known unto you all that if any man has a cause to plead, 
if he has been wronged by any, or if he has charges to 
meet that he cannot pay, the coffers of the king are open, 
for his heart is tender towards his people! Long live 
the king!" 

The herald rode on, but the crowd lingered dis- 
cussing his words with eagerness. 

"What does it mean? It can't be true," said 
they. ' l No king ever did that. ' ' 

Some of them clustered about the palace rail- 
ings to see if anyone went in, but not a single man 
took the king at his word, and all the time the 
sovereign sat, solitary and sad, in his new home. 

It was soon after all this that a stranger ap- 
peared in the city. The workmen were still build- 
ing houses for the courtiers, so the stranger got 
work as a labourer. He had to carry bricks and 
mortar up long ladders, and though it was hard 
work and the day was long, yet he kept at it, and 
because he was so cheery, everyone liked him 
immensely. 

When the buildings were finished, the stranger 
got work in the kitchens of the barracks. The 
task he had there was anything but pleasant but 
lie did not seem to mind, and often enough, when 
the soldiers of the king's bodyguard came off duty, 
they would sit and chat with the stranger while he 



THE QUEER COMRADE 51 

scoured the greasy pans. In fact, it was the sol- 
diers who gave him his nickname, as soldiers do. 
When they saw him busy with his pots and pans, 
and heard him singing at his work, they called 
him "The Queer Comrade." 

His work done for the day, there was nothing 
the stranger liked better than to play with the 
children. He would hoist the little ones on his 
back and be their horse or their camel, whichever 
they liked, and of course, while folk thought him 
very strange they could not help but admire his 
kind ways and his happy smile. 

The poor travellers who stayed for a night or 
so in the shabby part of the town where the 
stranger lived, said he was "one of the best." 
You can guess why. He was very handy with his 
fingers, and he would help to mend their shoes or 
patch a torn garment, while if a homeless one 
were in trouble, the stranger was always the first 
to sympathise, for he was homeless too. But why? 
Who was he? That was the very question people 
were asking. 

"I say, who are you?" asked a man one night, 
for he fancied that the stranger had once been 
better off. 

The other only laughed and said, "Well, they 
call me 'The Queer Comrade'." 

Time went on. The stranger disappeared as 
quietly as he came, and the gossips were now say- 
ing: "That stranger, 'The Queer Comrade/ is not 
a poor labourer after all ! It is the king himself. " 

Because the people would not go to him with 
their troubles, feeling afraid of his royal state, 
he had come to them. His love was too great for 



52 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

the palace walls to shut in, and so he had lived 
among them to show them how dear they were to 
his heart. So from that time forth, everyone 
learned to love and trust the king even though he 
was unlike any other monarch who had ever 
reigned. 
Can you guess his name? Was it Christ? 



THE FAIRIES IN THE FIEE 

YOU have often seen the fairies in the fire? 
I thought so ! But there was once a man who 
did not believe in them at all, nor in all the noble 
and beautiful things that are in the world if only 
we look for them. 

He sat by the fire one night, feeling very tired 
and lonely. And as he looked into the glowing 
coals, some of the old stories his mother used to 
tell him about the strange elves in the fire came 
back to him. 

"Ah, well!" he sighed; "that was a long time 
ago! There are no such things as fairies now!" 

"Aren't there?" asked a merry little voice. 
And the jolliest fellow he had ever seen jumped 
right out of the fire. 

He was all red. He had red hair, red cheeks, 
red hands, and a suit of the ruddiest hue. And 
standing between the poker and the tongs, he 
looked roguishly up into the man's face. 

"You do look down," remarked the fairy after 
a moment or two. 

"Of course! I had to, or I wouldn't have seen 
you." 

"I didn't mean that," answered the little chap. 
"You look unhappy, kind of miserable. Seeing 
me hasn't done it, has it? I don't look sad." 

53 



54 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"No," said the man, smiling in spite of him- 
self. ' ' I can 't say you look sad. On the contrary, 
you look rather merry and — bright!" 

1 ' Splendid ! ' 9 cried the fairy, clapping his hands 
with delight, "You have got it first time. That's 
my name ! ' ' 

' ' Your name — what is ? I don 't even know what 
you are!" 

"Why, Merrion Brite is my name — at your 
service! When you said just now that we didn't 
exist, I thought I would just come and show you 
that you are quite wrong. I am one of the fairies 
in the fire!" 

"I shouldn't have believed it," said the man, 
looking very puzzled. "In fact, I do not believe 
it even now. Probably you are only a bit of 
fancy." 

"Well, I am a bit fancy; at least, my suit is. 
Do you like it?" 

"It's very grand. Your best suit, I suppose?" 

"Oh no! These are my working clothes." 

"But I didn't know that fairies did any work," 
said the man, getting quite interested. 

"Don't they! My word, the fairies in the fire 
do." 

"You surprise me. Won't you tell me some- 
thing more about yourself and the kind of work 
you have to do?" 

The fairy looked quite pleased as he settled him- 
self on the top bar, and clearing his throat just 
like elderly gentlemen do, he began: "Well, it's 
not what you'd call an easy life. People always 
expect us to be bright and cheerful, and I think 
they sometimes put too much on us. . . ." 



THE FAIRIES IN THE FIRE 55 

"I'm afraid I don't understand, " interrupted 
the man. "How do they put too much on you?" 

"It's like this. ' Once a fire is lighted, you know, 
we set to work and no sooner have we got it nice 
and ruddy, when someone will come in and put 
another shovelful of coal on, and say, 'Now do 
hurry and burn up! It's bitterly cold to-day.' 
So we have to start again on that black, sizzling 
coal, and change it from dark to bright, from cold 
to hot, till instead of being wrapped up in itself, 
it gives out its light and warmth to others. You 
know what coal is, don't you?" 

The man nodded, so Merrion went on: 

"It has sunshine and heat locked up in its heart 
you know. Well, we work on its feelings till it 
unlocks its treasures and lets the sunshine out. 
Of course, it may sulk a bit at first, and look very 
black about it, but we generally manage to warm 
things up. 

"That isn't all. We arrange beautiful land- 
scapes and splendid castles to please the children. 
No, of course, they cannot go to them, but you 
must have seen little folk sit on the rug after tea, 
before the lights are on, and admire our work? 
I have, many a time. We can hear them say, 
'Look, there it is ! A great palace ! And see that 
bright gate ? That is where the Fairy Queen has 
just gone in. Aren't those mountains fine?' 

"I say! it's worth all the trouble we take just 
to see their bright faces, and to hear them laugh." 

1 ' Yes, ' ' said the man, ' i I should think it is. And 
I suppose there is quite a lot of you?" 

"Rather! We are a mighty nation, and the 
world couldn't get on without us. Some of us 



56 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

work on the great steamships, others drive the 
railway engines, and some are busy in all your fac- 
tories, while there is quite a large number of us 
who live in houses like yours. Wherever we get 
a chance, we are always busy giving back comfort 
and cheer for all the black things people heap on 
us!" 

"That is returning good for evil," mused the 
man. 

Just then, there was a tiny spurt of flame. The 
fairy had disappeared. But as the man sat there 
he said to himself, "So that's how it is! The 
fairies take all the hard and gloomy things that 
come their way, and do their level best to make 
someone else happy. I like that. It only needs 
a bit of an effort when things are not to one's 
liking to make the best of them. I must try to 
be merry and bright ! ' ' 

The fire crackled, and the man could have de- 
clared that he heard tiny hands clapping, and a 
little voice cry, "Bravo! just try it!" 



XI 

THE PIRATES 

ONE dark night, the Angel that sees to things 
called on the wise man. But it was late. 
The man was fast asleep, so the Angel had to wake 
him. 

i ' Dear me ! What a start you gave me. What 's 
the matter ? Is the house on fire ? ' ' he asked sleep- 

iiy. 

"No," said the Angel, "the house is all right. 
It is something I want the children to know about, 
and they will listen to you for they love you well." 

"But who are you?" he asked. 

1 ' Oh, I am only an angel, ' ' was the reply. ' ' Come 
with me ! ' ' 

The Angel took the man's hand, guiding him 
down a long narrow passage somewhere near the 
seashore, and soon they stood in a room that 
looked as though it had been cut out of the solid 
rock. And around a big table, lighted by candles 
stuck in bottles, sat the fiercest-looking lot of men 
the sage had ever seen. 

Their faces were weather-beaten and grim, and 
each man wore a strange design on his breast that 
looked like two bones with something oval in the 
middle. And to make matters worse, their belts 
were full of knives and pistols. 

It may have been the knives or possibly the 

57 



58 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

bones that reminded him of something, for the old 
man turned to the Angel and whispered, "If yon 
don't mind, I think I'll just slip back home for a 
minute. I'm not sure if I gave my dog his sup- 
per." 

1 ' You cannot go now. You should have thought 
about that before. Don't you know where we 
are?" 

The man, forgetting manners for a moment, 
shook his head. 

"We are in the pirates 9 den!" the Angel an- 
swered. 

That seemed to make the man more anxious 
than ever to see about his dog's supper. It surely 
couldn't be that he was afraid! But the Angel 
took his hand, and that reassured him, so he lis- 
tened to what was going on. 

The pirate chief was talking to his men, and 
when he laughed, all the shadows seemed to share 
in it till the whole cave was full of laughing voices. 

1 ' Now, my hearties ! Let us hear what you have 
taken on this last cruise," he said, looking into the 
faces of his company. "Who's first?" 

"Well, Cap'n," began one man, "we saw a trim 
little craft sailing along, so we boarded her, and a 
fine cargo she had." 

The pirate chief smiled. i * What was it ? ' 9 

"Pearls, Cap'n, pearls! So we took them and 
sank the ship ! ' ' 

"Good!" replied the chief — though of course, 
he meant it was very bad. "Now, No. 2, what 
have you to report?" 

The man addressed told how he had taken a 
vessel laden with cases labelled, "Things-at- 



THE PIRATES 59 

tempted/ ' The next said he had captured a 
cargo marked, " Things-as-they-are. " While a 
fourth said, ' ' Cap 'n, mine 's a queer capture. The 
ship I got was laden with Smiles and Kind Words ; 
you'd better have a look at that lot in daylight!" 

The pirate chief laughed again, this time so 
heartily that his yellow teeth made the wise man 
think that it was a pity he was not as careful as 
the girls and boys he knew, who cleaned theirs 
every day. 

"You've done well," said the Captain. "You 
couldn't have done better if I'd been with you, 
but these rheumatics. ..." 

Just then the Angel led the old man out. "I 
have been thinking of that dog of yours. You 
had better get back; I can't bear to think of the 
poor animal being hungry. ' ' 

But the man said, ' ' Oh, he '11 be all right for a 
few minutes more. The fact is, I felt just a little 
er — afraid of those men. But these ships — I never 
heard of cargoes like those. What did they 
mean?" 

1 ' That is just what I wanted to explain. We can 
talk it over as we walk back. Every boy and girl, 
and every grown-up too, for that matter, has ships 
at sea. You remember the first one, laden with 
pearls? Each hour is a pearl, and it meant that 
Time had been lost by somebody. 

"Another pirate captured that splendid cargo 
of Things-attempted. Someone had given up 
trying to do the lessons that seemed hard. The 
third had a load of Things-as-they-are, meaning 
that somebody had parted with Truth. And the 
last had taken Smiles and Kind Words — you 



60 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

can guess that means a lost temper somewhere! 

" These are the most precious cargoes a ship 
can carry — Time, Trying, Truth, and Temper. 
And when a pirate captures these, it is a serious 
loss both to the owner and to the world.' ' 

"I think I understand, ' ' said the man, "but will 
the little folks!" 

' i Certainly, if you tell them that the pirate who 
captures time is Laziness; the one who steals 
Things-attempted is Carelessness ; while the other 
two are Falsehood and Crossness. But if the 
ships had only run up their own flag when the 
pirates attacked — the flag of Resolve — they would 
have been safe. Now I think you had better hurry 
back; your dog will be ravenous !" 

And so that he would be sure to remember, the 
wise man kept saying to himself : 

Time is stolen by Laziness 
Trying is stolen by Carelessness 
Truth is stolen by Falsehood 
Temper is stolen by Crossness. 



xn 

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH 

LUCIUS was a young soldier in the army of 
ancient Rome, and he was so handsome and 
brave that when he strode along the streets, people 
would turn to look a second time. This may have 
been because he was so splendidly clad, for his 
coat of mail, with the burnished breastplate and 
shining helmet with its nodding plume, gleamed 
like gold in the sunshine. But more probably it 
was because he walked with head erect and chest 
out, instead of lounging along like some children 
do, although father is always telling them to 
straighten up. 

The officer, Claudian, who commanded Lucius 's 
legion, was very proud of this fine soldier. He had 
noticed how obliging and obedient Lucius was, for 
he never needed telling twice to do a thing, and 
what is more, he did it with such a happy face 
that the officer promised to promote him. 

About this time, the day came round when all 
the garrisons in different parts of the empire were 
rearranged. Legions were drafted from one 
place to another, and every soldier was eager to 
know just where he would be sent. And Lucius, 
with the promise of promotion in his mind, was 
full of hope that he would get a chance of showing 

61 



62 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

his devotion and courage. Where would his legion 
go? To Gaul? That was his dearest wish. 

There was a great war raging in Gaul, and that 
was why Lucius thought he stood a chance of doing 
something heroic and great, but to his disappoint- 
ment, when the lists were issued, he found that 
instead of being drafted there, or to some of the 
distant parts of the empire, his legion had been 
told off for garrison duty in Italy. 

As he was returning to his quarters, feeling 
very depressed, whom should he meet but his 
officer, Claudian. The young soldier saluted, but 
the other stopped and said, with a smile : 

"How fares it with thee? And why art thou 
so sad of face?" 

"Well, sir," replied Lucius, "I have just seen 
the lists and I hoped we were thought brave 
enough to be sent to the wars. " 

"Yea, and so hoped I, for I am disappointed 
even as thou. ' ' 

"But could we not appeal to the Senate, sir, and 
crave permission to go? I would like to show 
myself a man." 

"No," replied Claudius. "What Caesar wills 
must be obeyed. And where he sends us we must 
prove our loyalty and our courage. 9 ? 

There was nothing more to be said, and shortly 
afterwards, the legion found itself in the city of 
Herculaneum. 

That very year — it was A.D. 79 — there was a 
fearful eruption. The volcano suddenly belched 
forth its fiery lava, and the molten mass swept 
down upon the city. The alarm was given. 
Crowds of people fled for their lives along the 



FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH 63 

roads leading to the countryside, while others, 
stricken with fear, hid in their houses hoping they 
might be safe. 

Lucius was on guard at one of the gates. It 
would be another three hours before he went off 
duty, and as he looked first at the flaming crater 
of the volcano and then at the people surging past 
him, he wondered what to do. The ground shook 
under his feet. Buildings were toppling in ruin 
about him. Should he flee like the rest, or stay 
there at his post? 

Then he recalled swiftly how he had longed to 
show his devotion and bravery, and the words of 
his officer came back: " Where Caesar sends us we 
must prove our loyalty and courage/' He could 
still show the kind of man he was ! And so, be- 
cause he had been set to guard that gate, he re- 
mained true to his trust. He was faithful unto 
death ! 

Centuries have passed. But a few years ago, 
some very clever men were digging amid the ruins 
of that buried city. They had unearthed part of 
the walls, and in an archway, they discovered the 
remains of a Roman sentry. He was still at his 
post, and the price of his fidelity had been his life. 
You will remember that Christ said, "He that is 
faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in 
much. ' ' 

It is the little duty done well, the unimportant 
service we are called to render, that test our cour- 
age and show our steadfastness, and just as this 
soldier proved his grit and devotion to his emperor 
in doing his duty faithfully, so in the life we live 
at home, at school, at play, can we honour Christ. 



XIII 
MOURNFUL MAX, THE MISER 

THAT was not his real name, nor was it his only 
name, for sometimes, just for a change, peo- 
ple called him, Miserly Max, the mournful. But 
if there was anything in either name, he could not 
have been a very nice man to live with. However, 
that did not matter very much, for he lived alone, 
and his home was in a little old-fashioned town 
where everyone knew everyone else, and every- 
thing about each other's affairs. 

They used to gossip about Max. Some said he 
was very rich, but miserly, while others asked how 
he could be rich when he was so miserable, for they 
thought that wealth and happiness would be sure 
to go hand in hand. 

Now Max used to see the folk talking together 
as he passed by and he had a good idea that they 
were discussing him. For one thing, no one 
seemed to want anything to do with him. They 
would look the other way when they saw him com- 
ing, and if by any chance he overtook them going 
to market, they tried to avoid him. 

This made him more mournful than ever and 
more miserly, and he would go back to his solitary 
house, soured and sad. He had thought once that 
he would have a dog or a cat just to keep him com- 

64 



MOURNFUL MAX, THE MISER 65 

pany, but animals need food, and food costs 
money — though that is no reason why you should 
forget to feed your rabbits, or give a few crumbs 
to the birds. So Max had to find another means 
of comforting himself. He turned to the only 
thing he loved. His gold ? No, he hadn 't any gold. 
It was too scarce to be his idol, so he had all his 
money changed into silver, so that it looked more. 

Well, when he was quite sure the shutters were 
fast and the door bolted, Max would take out a bag 
of silver. He had several, though he never allowed 
himself to see them all at once. That might have 
made him feel happy, miser as he was, and he liked 
to be miserable because it is cheaper to be unhappy 
than to be glad ; at least for anyone like him, it was 
easier. So he would open the bag, and carefully 
count the coins. Perhaps he hoped that they might 
have increased since he last looked at them, but 
when he discovered that there was a coin missing, 
then he would get very cross and unhappy, and 
wonder what had become of it. The only thing 
to do was to count through the whole lot again, 
and when he found he had made a mistake, he 
would be so happy that he would have to put the 
bag under the floor again, so that he might resume 
his miserable feeling. 

"Now it's gone! It's out of sight. Just what 
it would be if anyone robbed me ! Suppose they 
did ! Hello, what 's that ? ' ' 

It was raining heavily, and the wind was 
howling about the house, but this was another 
kind of noise. It was a tap, tap, tapping, at the 
window, and Max's knees smote together. "It's 
thieves, ' ' he moaned. ' ' I knew they would come 



66 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

sooner or later. Whatever shall I do?" Then it 
occurred to him that robbers would hardly tap at 
the window to attract attention. Then perhaps 
it was someone who wanted to borrow some- 
thing! That was nearly as bad. Just then the 
knocking sounded on the door, and a child 's voice 
seemed to be calling his name. He opened the 
door, and he could just discern the face of a little 
boy, drenched with the pelting rain. 

" Please, Mr. Max, I'm so wet and tired. "Will 
you let me come in for a bit? I'd lost my way 
till I saw your light. I won't ask for anything!" 

The artful little fellow might have known that 
was sure to gain him admittance, for now that 
Max knew that it wasn't thieves, and that no one 
wanted to borrow anything, he was willing enough 
to let the boy shelter. Strange to say, he felt 
just a bit sorry for the boy, and taking off his 
wet clothes, Max wrapped him in a rug, and set 
him before the fire, while the storm grew worse 
and worse. 

"I'd let you stay the night only your mother 
might think. ..." 

"Oh, she won't mind. She'll think I'm at 
Grannie's. I stay there sometimes, you know." 

Max did not know, but he thought the wisest 
thing to do would be just to nod his head, and the 
boy chattered on. He told him all about his 
school, and how kind the old master who taught 
them was so that everyone loved him. "He lets 
us come to his house, if we like, and he tells us 
some fine tales. And do you know what he does? 
He dresses up. Yes, dresses up like a carrier, 
and when he hears about someone sick or too 



MOURNFUL MAX, THE MISER 67 

poor to get the comforts lie needs, he goes round 
to the house, when it's dark, and he'll say, 'A 
parcel for you, ma'am,' and although he will 
speak in the gruffest voice, the folk all know him, 
and they'll laugh and say, 'Why, if it isn't dear 
old Dominie.' Perhaps it's a parcel of clothes 
for a little child, or something nice for one of the 
old people. But, isn't he great, Mr. Max?" 

This was quite a long speech for the boy, but 
Max had listened, and he said, "Does he seem 
to enjoy playing tricks like these?" 

" Enjoy it! Rather! You should see his eyes 
twinkle when he tells the boys how much pleasure 
there is in doing a good turn for people." 

When Max got the boy to sleep, it was very 
late, but he sat down thinking over what he had 
heard. "How happy this schoolmaster must be, 
and how people love him. Yet they call me 
mournful Max. He can't be as well-off as I am. 
I know he isn't! Well, I'll see into this to- 
morrow." 

What had happened to Max? It was as though 
something had awakened in his heart, and 
when he sent the boy off next morning, after a 
really good breakfast, he gave him a small but 
heavy packet to give to his mother, while one of 
the bags of silver looked decidedly thinner than 
it had done the previous evening. Then Max set 
out for the schoolmaster's. 

"Yes; I suppose there is something in it, but 
I don't like to think that anyone has been telling 
tales out of school," said the old Dominie in reply 
to Max's questions. "What makes me do it? 
Why, Max, you are not thinking of acting in that 



68 PAYABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

way, are you? I always understood you were a 
mi " 

" Don't, please !" said Max, raising his hand. 
"I want to be different. Tell me your secret — 
why you take such pleasure in people. " 

The master led the way into his book-lined 
room, and pointing to a motto on the wall, he said, 
"There's the secret. I don't know who wrote 
those words, but they have meant a good deal 
to me." 

Max put his spectacles on, and with difficulty 
spelled out: 

J esus first 
thers next 
Y ourself last 

"That makes you kind; but what makes you so 
happy?" asked Max. 

1 ' That is there too ! Don 't you see that the first 
letters spell JOY?" And as Max read the motto 
again, he saw that the Dominie was right. Mourn- 
ful Max is now no more. He spends his life in 
helping other folk, and what do you think his 
name is now? 



XIV 
LADIES FIBST 

THE boy's parents were sad. But the king's 
orders had to be obeyed, and so they sent 
their child away. It came to pass, however, that 
a princess fell in love with the boy, and taking 
him back to her palace, she made him a prince. 
There he had a splendid time. She gave him fine 
clothes to wear. He had servants to do his light- 
est bidding. And when he felt hungry, there 
were dainty dishes set before him that he might 
be satisfied. He must have been happy as the 
day was long ! 

That is just where we often make a mistake. It 
does not follow that if we lived in a palace and 
had everything that heart could wish, that we 
would be a bit happier than we could be now if 
we tried. 

The years passed very pleasantly and swiftly 
for the prince, and he grew up. He was rather 
tired of the palace, and having the servants 
pampering him as though he were still a child, 
but something occurred that made him want to 
get away from it all. 

One day he was out for a walk and there he 
came upon one of the king's officers, beating a 
poor fellow for something he had done, or per- 
haps had not done. He was one of the people to 
whom the prince really belonged, and unable to 

69 



70 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

restrain himself, the prince dashed up and 
knocked the man's tormentor to the ground. 

This was a serious thing to do, for someone 
might report it to the king. But in any case, the 
prince felt that he could not live in idleness any 
more, so he got some peasant's clothes and steal- 
ing off from the palace, he made for a distant 
place in the country where he thought he might 
be able to get work. 

It is not clothes that make a noble man, and 
although he did not now look like a prince, he 
remained one at heart. This will prove it. 

As he got farther away from the city, the road 
got very dry and dusty, and being more accus- 
tomed to riding in a royal chariot than trudging 
afoot, the prince got very tired. Besides, the sun 
was beating down on his head, and he felt he 
could not go another step, so he sat by a wayside 
well. 

While he was wondering how much farther he 
had to go, some shepherd girls came up with their 
flock, and while the sheep were baa-ing as hard 
as they could, the girls started to draw water 
from the well, filling the troughs for the sheep to 
drink. It was hard work and hot work too, but 
they did not mind so long as the sheep got the 
cool water. 

That reminds me : have you given your canary 
fresh water to-day? And did you see that your 
cat had a nice drink of milk? You know that our 
dumb friends are dependent on us, and we must 
always think of them. And a few crumbs for the 
birds outside are always welcome. 

However, just as the troughs were filled, up 



LADIES FIRST 71 

came a group of men with another flock of sheep. 
"Good idea!" said the shepherds. "No need to 
draw water to-day; they have done it for us. 
Here ! drive those sheep back and let ours drink!" 

They were starting to chase the frightened 
flock away when up sprang the young prince. His 
eyes were flashing and his hands were clenched. 
He pushed the rude fellows aside and said, 
"Ladies first!" — or something that meant the 
same thing. 

The boys will agree that it was a princely thing 
for him to act like that. Then why don't you 
do it? It does not mean fighting — except against 
selfishness, but this is what it does mean : Do you 
offer your seat to a lady or stand aside to let one 
pass, or try to be of service in some way? It 
applies to mother and your sisters as well as to 
strangers. 

You will remember that when the troopship 
Birkenhead was sinking the soldiers stood on 
deck as though on the parade-ground while the 
sailors put the women and children into the few 
boats they had. Their motto was, " Ladies first ! ' ' 
and we think with pride of those splendid men 
who thus showed true courage and real courtesy. 

But the motto is for the girls as well as the 
boys. Their resolve must be "Ladies first!" 
That means they must be ladies before anything 
else — too polite to act thoughtlessly or speak 
crossly; too ladylike to be anything but gracious 
and kind. 

Who was the prince? Why, you have guessed 
his name long ago. He was Moses, and the 
maidens were the daughters of Midian's priest. 



XV 

THE QUICKENING KISS 

/^NCE upon a time, in a quiet glade, lay a 
^-^ princess fast asleep. She was fair and 
lovely to look upon, and the courtiers round about 
her could not but admire her. But there was one 
thing they could not do : they could not wake her 
from her sleep. 

"We cannot let her stay here," said one. 
"What will the king say?" But they looked the 
more puzzled, for this princess was like someone 
I know, who never wants to get up, no matter how 
often he is called. 

"Let me try, " the Lightning said. So he flashed 
his bright light in her face. She did not move. 
In fact, one would hardly have known that she 
was alive but for the rising and falling of her 
bosom. 

"I think I can do it," remarked the Thunder, 
pushing to the front. "Now give me a chance." 
He growled his loudest. Then with a mighty 
whoop he returned to see if she was awake, for he 
was sure that no one could sleep through a noise 
like that. But to his astonishment, and indeed to 
that of the other courtiers, she did not stir. 

The Wind cut in just here and said, "Let me see 
what I can do." So he whistled gently, as much 
like a blackbird as he could. Then he howled like 

72 



THE QUICKENING KISS 73 

a creature in pain. "Well, we'll have to blow her 
up!" he said, and holding his breath for a mo- 
ment, he then blew his hardest, but he was no 
more successful than the others. 

The Hailstones took their turn. ' They pat- 
tered on the ground all round the princess ; then, 
growing bolder, they even flicked her face with 
their sharp lash. But that did not wake her! 

The courtiers had been looking on in wonder, 
but when they saw that nothing would wake their 
princess, they were alarmed. "Is there anything 
else we can do?" said one. "We cannot leave her 
like this. If she doesn't wake soon, she will die, 
and who dare face the king then ! ' ' 

"Perhaps we ought to go for him," replied an- 
other, "but I have heard that sprinkling water on 
people who will not wake sometimes helps. Let us 
ask sister Rain." 

The Rain came, and from her silver pitcher she 
shook tiny drops of water that fell like diamonds 
upon the sleeping maiden. And as they fell, she 
moved slightly in her sleep, and her lips opened 
in a fleeting smile. 

1 ' Splendid ! ' ' cried all the courtiers. * ' That is 
doing it ! Keep on ! " 

But just then, the Prince of the Sunlit Land 
stepped through a rift in the clouds, and seeing 
the group of courtiers standing together he said, 
"What mean you standing idly here? There is 
much to do, and time is all too short for us all." 

"May it please your highness," said one, "we 
are not idle. Our princess lies here in a deep 
sleep, and we fear the anger of our king if we 
leave her thus, but wake her we cannot!" 



74 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

11 Princess?" As the courtiers parted to make 
way, the prince saw the most beauteous maiden 
he had ever looked upon, for the smile that 
greeted the Rain's message had returned. "How 
fair she is. The like of her I have never seen be- 
fore." And kneeling by her side, the prince 
pressed his lips to her brow. 

How it came about, I cannot tell you, but at 
that instant the princess opened her eyes, and 
instead of being afraid at the sight of the strange 
prince, she smiled saying, "Oh, I have had such 
a strange dream. I seemed to see a bright light 
flashing, and heard awful voices round about me. 
Then someone threw sharp stones at me, and eerie 
sounds seemed to come out of the night till I was 
afraid for my life. But it was only a dream. I 
am so glad you woke me up!" 

She held out her hand to the prince, and as he 
helped her to her feet she laughed gaily. "I am 
wide awake now ! I do not know what you did to 
rouse me, but thank you very much ! I must get 
back to the palace. My father will think I am 
lost, and I have so much to do." 

The prince took her hand in farewell. Then he 
said, "I will come to the palace of your father, 
for I have something I want him to give to me. 
Can you guess what it is?" 

The lady blushed and shook her head, but I 
think she knew what the prince meant. And so 
the whole party, courtiers as well, wended their 
way back to the king. And though the Prince of 
the Sunlit Land had succeeded where they had 
failed, they did not mind in the least, so long as 



THE QUICKENING KISS 75 

their happy smiling princess was awake once 
more. 

You have guessed what the story means? The 
princess is the earth, locked in her winter sleep. 
The flashing lightning, the noisy thunder and the 
blustering wind, had failed to wake her just as the 
pattering hail, for gentleness is more powerful 
than roughness. But though the sweet rain had 
made her stir, it needed the warm kiss of the sun 
to bring her fully back to herself, radiantly fair. 

Try what you can do for those about you. 
Scolding and crossness will not make anyone any 
better, but the warm kiss of kindness and thought- 
fulness will work wonders. 



XVI 

THE HOLY GRAIL 

TBERE is an old legend that says that the cup 
from which Jesus drank at the Last Supper 
was brought by a pious man to Britain. Those 
who had the care of it were to be pure and good, 
but one man forgot his vows, and the result was, 
the cup vanished just as all our blessings do when 
we do what is wrong. 

Now there was a young knight named Sir Laun- 
fal who resolved to go in search of this cup, and 
he vowed that he would not return until he had 
found it. So he called for his armour and his 
sword. He mounted his charger. The great draw- 
bridge was lowered with many a creak and groan 
and he clattered out of his castle. 

As he rode out, however, he thought he heard 
a voice. He looked about, and there, crouching by 
the castle gate was a poor leprous beggar, who 
held out his hand, and asked for alms. 

The proud young knight was very angry that 
such a fellow should dare speak to him, but he 
took a gold piece from his purse, and flung it to 
the beggar. It lay where it fell, and the man 
looking up at the handsome face of the other said: 
"He gives nothing but worthless gold who gives 
from a sense of duty." 

76 



THE HOLY GRAIL 77 

Sir Launfal rode on. Summer faded into 
autumn, and one year followed another, but no 
trace of the cup could he find. No one seemed to 
have heard of it. Of course, he had set out in a 
bad temper, and everything goes wrong then! 
Yet having vowed that he would never return 
without the cup, he kept on, ever seeking but never 
finding. 

Many years had passed. The knight was no 
longer young, and he had parted with his horse, 
then with his armour in order to get food. And 
at last, weary of his quest, poor and homeless, 
he gave up and came back to find that people had 
long thought him dead, and another had taken his 
place. What should he do? 

He sat down by the gate to think. Suddenly he 
heard a voice. It was the same voice that had 
called to him that day when he first rode forth 
so proudly. He remembered it well! 

He looked about, and though it was getting 
dark, he espied not far away, the very beggar to 
whom he had flung the money, but now the poor 
fellow looked more pitiable than ever. 

Possibly the knight remembered how Jesus had 
once healed a leper like this man, for he walked 
over to him and said, 

"I behold in thee an image of Him that died 
on the tree," and taking out the last piece of 
coarse, brown bread he had left, he gave it to the 
beggar. 

There was a wooden bowl lying on the ground, 
so Sir Launfal took it, and breaking the ice of 
the stream, he filled the bowl and held the water 
to the leper's parched lips. 



78 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

It was then that the wonder took place. The 
bread changed from brown to white. The water 
in the bowl turned to red wine, and even the bowl 
itself became a glorious vessel of gold. 

Nor was that all. Instead of a loathsome leper, 
there sat Christ, looking into Sir LaunfaPs face, 
and with a smile He said : 

' l The Holy Supper is kept indeed in whatso we 
share with another's need. Who gives himself 
with his alms feeds three : himself, his hungering 
neighbour, and Me." 

The knight had ridden far and had wandered 
over the wide world to show his love to his Mas- 
ter, yet all the time, the chance of doing Him serv- 
ice and proving his devotion lay at his very door. 



XVII 
THE RIVEB AND THE POOL 

THE snow had been melting on the mountains, 
and two little streamlets were born both on 
the same spring day. They were quite near to 
each other, in fact, they were within speaking dis- 
tance, and as they flowed down the mountain side, 
one noticed that the other was moving much faster 
than she. 

"You seem in a hurry, little sister," she called 
out. ' ' Where are you going ? ' ' 

"I want to get down to the meadows where the 
daisies and the buttercups will soon be growing. 
I heard a bird say that they are always glad to see 
a stream, and down there, the lambs are frisking 
about, and everything is as happy as the day is 
long. That is why I am hurrying. ' ' 

The other pouted. " You are very foolish," she 
said. "I heard what the bird told you, but I'm 
going to take things easily. It 's nice and quiet up 
here, and you never know what may happen down 
in the valley. Grubby children may come and 
stand in you, or perhaps some cattle will come and 
drink you dry, then where will you be? I'm not 
running any risks. What is the use? Besides, 
there's plenty of time, and I'm going to think of 
myself while I can." And she did! But when 

79 



80 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

she saw that the other stream was still running 
along as fast as ever, she called, "Well, good-bye! 
You're very silly!" 

The second stream knew that it was not a bit of 
use getting angry because the other was spiteful, 
so she said, "Good-bye !" And then she added to 
herself, "I'd rather be silly than selfish!" 

On it went, gathering strength as it tumbled 
among the rocks. Now and again, when it came to 
a narrow place, it had the hardest work in the 
world to get through, but it twisted and turned 
till it managed to squeeze past, and as it went 
lower down, things began to get easier. 

The birds were singing in the woods. The trees 
waved their arms and threw kisses to the little 
stream from the distant mountain. And in the 
meadows, the flowers turned their faces to it, 
while the lambs with their funny long legs, came 
romping along to look at the gurgling water. In 
one place, some cattle actually came in till they 
stood knee deep in the stream, and as they drank 
the cool water, they seemed to lift their heads to 
God and say, "Thank You for sending us the 
stream!" 

This pleased the stream mightily, and as she 
got older, she got bigger and broader, just like 
boys do. She was a river now, and the fishing 
boats that had been tossing all night on the wild 
deep came in to rest upon her quiet bosom. 

At last the Sea, which is the foster-mother of 
the rivers, stretched out her arms to receive her 
(You know that geography books speak of the 
arms .of the sea!). 



THE RIVER AND THE POOL 81 

"Well, aren't you glad to get here?" she asked 
the river. 

"Yes," replied the river. "Very glad, for 
everyone seemed so pleased to welcome me. The 
trees waved to me, and the lambs and the cattle 
actually came to have a good look at me. As I 
came along, I have been turning the water-wheel 
for the miller, and the boats came sailing in just 
before I got to you. I'd much rather be a river 
than a pool," she added. "It is such fun sharing 
what you have with others." 

"But what has become of your sister?" asked* 
the Sea. "I thought you would have made the 
journey together. You could have helped one 
another then." 

The river was silent for awhile. Then she said, 
"We started together but she wanted to stay up in 
the mountains a bit longer. ' ' 

Away up there, the other stream had found a 
cosy little hollow into which she crept. It was 
quiet and cool. There were no horrid rocks tc 
climb over, but just nice soft earth, so feeling 
rather drowsy, she settled down and was soon fast 
asleep. 

By and by, a green scum formed over her face, 
and when she did open her eyes for a minute, she 
felt so heavy that she just went off to sleep again. 
The water became stagnant and slimy so that the 
children who came out from the lonely farms 
among the hills would not go near it. In fact, had 
the pool not been quite so sleepy, she might have 
heard them say to one another, "Keep away from 
that pool! It's nasty. Let's go down to the 
stream; there's more fun there!" 



82 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

And there was. The stream had heard their 
joyous laughter, and she would say to herself, 
" After all, it is better to give what one has and 
still have it, than to keep it and lose it ! I would 
rather be silly than selfish, and it is much more 
pleasant being a stream than a pool. Look at the 
fun of sharing !" 



xvin 

THE FINGEK-POSTS 

ONCE upon a time, there was a boy who had to 
set out on a journey, but he did not know 
the way. So he went to the wise man of the village 
and said, "Please can you tell me which road I 
have to take." 

"It all depends where you are going,' ' he re- 
plied. 

"Oh," said Harry, "I have to go from Here to 
There, and I thought you might know the way. 
Grown-ups generally know best." 

The wise man looked very pleased as he said, 
"You must take the first turn to the right, and 
keep straight on. Then look out for the finger- 
posts." 

"Are there many?" he asked. 

1 i No, only three. If you follow their direction, 
you will be well on your way, and by the third, 
you will meet the guide who is to take you the 
rest of the journey. Good-bye, and good luck ! ' ' 

Harry set off in high glee. It was a glorious 
day, and as he tramped along, sure enough, he 
espied a finger-post standing at the cross-roads. 
But when he got to it, and read what was painted 
on the arm, he was disappointed. Instead of the 
name of the place he wanted, it had just one word, 
GO, and a long arm pointing along the highway. 

Still, the wise man had told him to follow the 

83 



84 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

direction of each finger-post and he would reach 
his goal, so off he started again, only this time, he 
was whistling to keep his spirits up. 

At the bottom of the hill, he came upon the sec- 
ond sign. This was stranger than the first, for it 
had also one word on it, but this time it was 
GROW, and the arm sloped upwards, pointing 
right up the steep track that wound up the face of 
the hill. 

There was no whistling now ! Harry wanted all 
his breath for climbing. But as he went slowly 
on, he thought to himself, "I've never heard of 
finger-posts like these. The old gentleman said I 
had to follow them, however, so I suppose it's all 
right. I'll see when I get to the third.' ' 

But he began to feel that he would never reach 
the third. Every step of the way seemed to be 
getting harder, and he was tired. At last, he 
thought he saw something sticking up on the crest 
of the hill, so he re-doubled his efforts and after 
some stiff scrambling^ he stood panting before the 
third. 

The others had been strange, but this was the 
strangest of the lot. In golden letters that shone 
in the light of the setting sun as though they were 
painted in liquid fire, Harry read the word, 
GLOW : and the arm pointed down the other side 
of the hill, where the track suddenly ended in a 
dense wood. 

' i Now where am I ? " he said to himself. ' i There 
doesn't seem to be any road now. Why, of course, 
the man said I would meet the guide at the third 
finger-post. But where is he f No track, no guide ! 
This is queerer than ever!" 



THE FINGER POSTS 85 

As Harry stood for a moment, looking about 
for the guide, and wondering if they would meet 
before it got dark, lie saw smoke curling above 
some trees. So off lie set to see what it was. 
There was a tiny cottage, almost hidden from 
view, so the boy, who was feeling just a little out 
of temper, thought that perhaps if the guide were 
not there at least some one might be able to say 
where he was. So he knocked at the door. 

It was opened by a lady with a kind face just 
like his mother's, and before he could get his 
question out, she said, "Well, little man, lost?" 

"Nearly! But do you happen to know if there 
is a guide about here? I was told that I would 
meet him at the third finger-post." 

"So you came that way, did you?" asked the 
lady. "I wonder if you can remember what was 
on them." 

"Yes, I think so ! The first one said GO, and the 
arm pointed straight along. Then the second said 
GROW, and it pointed upwards. While the third 
had GLOW on it, and pointed down here to the 
dark woods." 

"Splendid!" cried the lady. "That's it! 
What a fine memory you have. To reach the 
golden land of There you must 

"Go as God points you; 
Grow as God bids you; 
Glow where God puts you 
Day by day!" ' 

"But what about the guide?" Harry asked. 
"He is here, waiting to lead you on. His name 
is Christ!" 



xrx 

THE TWO PLANTERS 

LONG, long ago, there was a part of the world 
where the flowers had never begun to grow. 
The people did not know what was wanting to 
complete the scene, but as they looked over the 
long grassy slopes of the hills and the wide 
stretches of the plains, they wished that there 
were something just to brighten the landscape. 

One day, a stranger appeared from no one knew 
where. He was dressed in clothes that looked as 
though they had been made from snow when the 
sun shines on it: they were so dazzlingly white. 
So while most of the people were looking wonder- 
ingly at their visitor, one, a bit bolder than the 
rest went up and said, "May we ask who you are, 
sir, and whence you came ? ' J 

The stranger smiled, saying, "I come from far. 
My home is in the land of Loveliness, and look ! I 
have brought these from my king." 

He brought his hand from behind his back and 
held out a gorgeous bunch of flowers. There were 
what we now call primroses, violets, daffodils, 
and quite a lot of others. "All these will I plant 
in your land, if you will let me, for without the 
flowers the earth looks sad." 

The man spoke so kindly and was so polite in 

86 



THE TWO PLANTERS 87 

his ways, that the people were quite eager for him 
to do as he wished. You see, everyone likes polite 
people ; that is why mother is always telling you 
to be careful how you speak. 

Some of them got spades and dug up the 
ground. Then the visitor set to work. He planted 
seeds and bulbs very carefully, setting some in 
straight lines; others in little clusters. Then 
smoothing the soil over them, he turned to those 
who were looking on, and said, ' i By and by I will 
return. Then we shall see the result of our 
work. ' ' 

"Before you go," said one of the people, 
"won't you tell us your name? We are very 
grateful to you for taking so much trouble." 

With a laugh he said, 4 1 Oh, it's no trouble. It is 
a real pleasure to me to do a little service for any- 
one. My name? Love-right! Good-bye." And 
he had gone. 

He was hardly out of sight when another man, 
very much like the first to look at, came along. 
"I say!" he cried. "What a shabby old world. 
What you want is some flowers. Look here! if 
you like, I'll plant some for you. What do you 
say?" 

The people looked at one another and the man 
who had spoken to the other visitor said, "We 
have already had one who has planted some." 

"I know whom you mean," replied the other. 
"But you will have to wait a long time before you 
see anything for what he has done. But mine! 
Say, I'll put some seed in here that will be up 
in no time." 

They listened. ' ' What shall we do ? " asked one. 



88 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Well it does not seem quite fair to the first to 
let this man sow seeds as well," remarked one of 
the older men. " Besides, when once he has 
planted them, we cannot take them out again. 
Let us have nothing to do with him. I don't like 
his ways." 

But some of the younger laughed. "Oh, it 
wouldn't be fair to give one a chance and not an- 
other. Let them both show us what they can do. 
Then, when their flowers come up, we can see 
which we like the best. ' ' 

Well, the stranger set to work, but instead of 
digging up more land, he flung the seed with both 
hands right over the soft soil. And before long 
he had finished. 

" There you are," he said, dusting his hands. 
"Before long you will have any amount of flowers 
and things. Now I must be off." 

Time went on. The seeds were growing fast, 
and then the people saw that they should have 
been more careful about that second man and his 
promises. There were great ugly weeds pushing 
up everywhere: dandelions, stinging nettles, and 
all kinds of rank weeds were growing in the 
place where the other seeds were trying to make 
their way. 

It looked as though the primroses, the violets, 
and the daffodils, would have no chance at all, 
and some said, "Why did we let that fellow plant 
his nasty seeds?" 

The old man who had warned them was just 
going to say, "I told you so," when he remem- 
bered in time that was a little unkind, so he altered 
it to, "I wonder why we did!" 



THE TWO PLANTERS 89 

Yet in spite of all the weeds might do, they 
could not quite crowd the fair flowers out of sight, 
and the perfume of the timid little violets got 
through somehow. While taller and taller grew 
the sunflowers which were the emblem of Love- 
right, and these as they saw the sun kept their 
faces always turned to him so that they might 
reflect his smile. 

One day, the people found Love-right standing 
beside his flowers, looking very sad. 

"An enemy has done this," he said. "Do you 
know who has been planting all these weeds ? ' ' 

"Why," was the reply, "the very day you were 
here, another man very like you came. He begged 
to be allowed to sow his seeds, so we let him. 
This is the result/ ' 

"You know his name?" 

"No! he didn't give us his name." 

"I know who it was. It was Work-spite. He 
always follows me and tries to spoil my work 
of bringing happiness to people. Now we must 
get rid of these weeds. What a pity I didn't warn 
you about letting anyone else sow seeds here." 

While the stranger and the people set to work, 
I remembered how these two are always coming 
to the hearts of little people, seeking to sow their 
seed. Love-right is your better self. He brings 
seeds of love and unselfish deeds that will shine 
bright and fair, and send their fragrance far and 
wide. The other is the tempter who scatters seeds 
of rudeness, ill-temper, and unkind words in the 
heart. 

"If ever old Work-spite comes here again," 
said some of the men, "we will tell him we want 



90 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

no more of his weeds ! J f And Love-right laughed 
merrily as he said, "Yes, good seeds mean good 
deeds in the end. There ? s nothing that will make 
the old world so happy and bright." 



XX 

MARK, THE MERRY 

SITTING- i n m y study late one night, I was 
startled by a gentleman of somewhat unusual 
appearance. He stepped down from the book- 
shelves, and with a polite bow, stood in the light 
of the fire. 

' ' Good evening ! ' ' he said, repeating the bow. 

"Good evening !" I replied. "I think we have 
met before somewhere, but your name. . . ." 

"My name is Chuzzlewit; Martin Chuzzlewit, 
at your service, sir. ' ' 

"Why, of course. I remember you now quite 
well. In fact, I was just thinking of that young 
friend of yours when you came in. You know 
whom I mean. That young fellow who was so 
cheerful, so merry; and in these days. ..." 

"Oh! you mean my partner and benefactor, 
Mark Tapley, I suppose?" 

"Exactly! Could you refresh my memory. 
You see, he was such a delightful fellow; one it 
was a real pleasure to know. And there are some 
young folk to whom I would like to introduce 
him." 

Mr. Chuzzlewit blew his nose very violently, and 
clearing his throat he began: "Well, Mark was 
originally employed in a somewhat subordinate 

91 



92 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

position in a not much-frequented hostelry, 
and. . . ." 

"Pardon me a moment! I am sure my little 
friends would never understand all that. I sup- 
pose we might say that Mark was a kind of handy- 
man in a small hotel? " 

"Precisely! That is just what I said. Well, 
his one object in life was to be happy, whatever 
happened." And at this moment, Mr. Chuzzle- 
wit laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. 
"Rather good, that? ' Happy whatever hap- 
pened !' And I didn't intend to make a pun. As 
I was saying, because he found his work too easy, 
he wanted something to be happy about, and find- 
ing that I was going to America to try my for- 
tunes there, he followed me to London. I was 
extremely poor and didn't know how I was going 
to pay my passage but what do you think he 
wanted? First he said he wanted to find work, to 
be man-servant to someone, and the poorer the 
better; the harder the life, the happier he would 
be. In short, he wanted to go with me. I tried to 
put him off, and said that I simply could not af- 
ford to take him. But he said, if I would not take 
him, he would go just the same. And being bent 
on being cheerful, he would take the craziest, leak- 
iest, wretchedest ship he could find, and if he were 
lost at sea, then, said he, 'There'll be a drowned 
man at your door, always a-knocking double 
knocks too ! ' So I had to agree. 

"Well, it was a good thing for me I did. We 
were in the steerage — the poorest and cheapest 
part of the ship, and I was so ill all the time, what 
with the rolling of the ship, and the crowded place 



MARK, THE MERRY 93 

we had to occupy. But Mark! Why, bless me, 
that 's just what he did every day. He was a bless- 
ing to everybody. He looked after me, and as 
for the children who were on board, why, he 
played with them, comforted them, helped to put 
them to bed. . . . But perhaps I weary you?' ' 

1 ' Not in the least ; I am most interested. Please 
go on." 

"Well, we arrived at a place called Eden, 
though why they called it that, I cannot under- 
stand. I had arranged to start business there, 
and we finished that part of the journey in a small 
steamer. When our baggage was put ashore, I 
thought we had reached the most dismal spot on 
earth. An old man pointed out the house I was to 
live in, but he told us that everybody was ill 
there., He was ill. His sons were ill. The last 
man who came had died; and I did feel happy.' ' 

"What about Mark?" I interrupted. 

"I'm coming to him. He was just as cheerful 
as could be, and when we found the house hadn't 
any door, he just got out a blanket and nailed it 
up for one, and set about getting things unpacked, 
while I sat down and just cried like a child. 

"Mark looked at me, and said, * Don't do that, 
sir. Anything but that! It never helped man, 
woman, or child over the lowest fence yet, sir, 
and it never will.' He had got our things un- 
packed, and called out, 'Here we are, sir. Every- 
thing in its proper place. Here's the salt pork. 
Here's the biscuits. Here's the blankets. . . . 
Who says we haven't got a first-rate fit-out? I 
feel as if I was a cadet gone out to India, and my 
noble father was chairman of the Board of Direc- 



94 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

tors. Supper's ready, a supper comprising all the 
delicacies in season. Here we are, sir, all com- 
plete. "For what we are going to receive,'' et 
cetera. . . . Why, bless you, sir, it's very like a 
gipsy party/ 

"Some days later, we got things going, only I 
fell sick — Fever, I think. But Mark said, ' A touch 
of fever? I daresay, but bless you, that's noth- 
ing. Wait half a minute till I run up to one of our 
neighbours, and ask what's best to take for it; 
and to-morrow, you'll find yourself as strong as 
ever again. . . . I won't be gone a minute. Don't 
give in while I'm away, whatever you do!' 

"I watched Mark as he left the door, and I 
heard him say to himself, 'Now, Mr. Tapley (giv- 
ing himself a tremendous blow in the chest by way 
of reviver) just you attend to what I've got to 
say. Things are looking about as bad as they can 
look, young man. You'll not have such another 
opportunity of showing your jolly disposition, my 
fine fellow, as long as you live. And therefore, 
Tapley, now's your time to come out strong; 
or Never!' And Mark's cheerfulness pulled us 
through all our difficulties," said Mr. Chuzzlewit. 

"Yes," I added, "but do you think my little 
friends will understand all this ? ' ' 

"Sure! And when they are older, they will 
make Mark's acquaintance for themselves. Mean- 
time, tell them from me — or from Mark — that the 
worst thing in life is getting sorry for yourself, 
and the best is being sorry for other people, and 
doing what you can to gladden their hearts. Keep 
smiling, even when it hurts!" 



XXI 

GKOWING 

IF you go about with your eyes open in the early 
Spring you will notice that something is hap- 
pening every day. That sounds strange, but it is 
true. It is not everyone who goes about with his 
eyes open, for some people may stare at a thing, 
yet never see it. 

But what is happening? Well, when the year 
first came in, it was quite dark by teatime, but 
now we can do without a light for a much longer 
time, so the days have been growing and getting 
longer. 

Look at the parks and the gardens, and you 
will see the change there. Not very long ago, the 
trees looked as miserable as possible. They were 
bare and cold, so that when the chill winds blew, 
one could almost hear the trees say, "Please leave 
us alone! We are so cold, and we don't want to 
be tossed about any more." 

All that is changed. The trees have got their 
Spring costumes, and very proud they are of their 
fine green clothes. And as though not to be out- 
done, the earth has decked her garments with the 
beautiful flowers. 

Those flowers were funny! You know, first of 
all, they sent up a little shoot, just like a peri- 

95 



96 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

scope, as though to see what was going on on the 
surface. Then they kept on growing till at last 
the flowers opened their eyes, and smiled on the 
world. Trees and flowers have both been growing, 
all through the gloomy days. 

Then some of you have been doing the same 
thing. You are bigger, broader, stronger, and 
kinder, than you were a year ago. That is fine!, 

Have you seen that picture of two little girls, 
standing back to back, while their sister who is 
bigger than either of them, is seeing which is the 
taller? She has put a ruler across their heads. 
But one child is about five inches shorter than the 
other, so she is standing on her toes. The big sis- 
ter, however, has noticed this, and she says, ' ' No 
tipty toes!" 

She evidently thinks the tiny one is not quite 
fair, but I like that little child for wanting to be as 
big as her sister. She is making the best of her 
size and herself! And if there is one thing she 
wants more than another it is to be big! 

Do you ever measure yourself? I used to know 
a little girl who was fond of being measured, and 
on her nursery wall, there were quite a number of 
marks. I do not mean finger-marks, though they 
do get on walls. But these marks were to show 
how big she was on the date which her father put 
opposite to each of them, and they could both see 
how much she had grown since she was last meas- 
ured. 

I want you to measure yourself, not back to back 
with one another, nor even against the wall, for 
there is more than one way of growing. "We have 
minds as well as bodies, and souls as well as both. 



GROWING 97 

Ask yourself, "How much have I grown ?" 
"Am I taller than a year ago?" Good! That 
shows you have been going to bed willingly when 
mother said it was time, and that you have been 
playing well after school-hours. 

' ' Am I wiser ? ' ' Better still ! It proves that you 
have been trying to work as well as play, and that 
when your teacher asked you to learn something, 
you did not say to yourself, "Oh, bother!" but 
went and tried to do it. 

' ' Am I better than I used to be ? More thought- 
ful, obedient and kind?" That shows that you 
have been trying to follow the noble and true and 
that is best of all. 

There are many things that help us to grow. 
Before the spring flowers came, while the days 
were yet gloomy and dark, someone went out to 
plant the bulbs. The ground was damp, and the 
hole into which they were put was cold and dark. 
They had been far more comfortable in the shop. 
Then the rain came and drenched the soil, but the 
little bulbs did not want to get up, and when the 
wind came and whistled, they just turned over 
again and went to sleep. But after awhile, the 
sun smiled on the earth and they felt they could 
not lie buried there any longer, so up they came, 
happy and gay. 

It is much the same for us. We have chill 
winds of disappointment and showers that damp 
our spirits. We have to make our way through 
difficulties, just as the shoot has to come up 
through the soil. But the great Gardener knows 
what is best for us, and showers and sun are all 
meant to help us to grow. 



98 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

To grow tall is good, to grow wise is better, 
but to grow like our Pattern is best of all. So 
before you go to sleep every night, measure your- 
self with Him, and ask, "How much have I 
grown to-day?" 



XXII 

CESAR'S COLLAR 

RING EDWARD used to have a favourite ter- 
rier that went everywhere with his royal 
master, and on the dog's collar were the words, 
"I am Caesar: I belong to the king." 

That makes a fine motto for boys and girls, and 
there was once a boy who carried it in his heart. 
And it was like this: 

The land where he lived was in danger. The 
king's soldiers were few though his foes were 
many, and when an invasion was threatened, the 
king sent his heralds through every town and 
village calling the men to the colours to help to 
save their homes. 

Now Olaf heard one of these heralds, and when 
he saw the long line of men waiting to be enrolled, 
he took his place with them in the queue outside 
the recruiting office. Some of them began to laugh 
good humouredly at the boy, and one said, "You 
run home to your mother, little lad, and wait till 
you grow. You are no use!" 

But the boy took it all in good part. He kept 
both his temper and his place in the line, and 
waited his chance with the rest. 

They say that all things come to him who waits, 
and at last, Olaf 's turn came. He stood before a 

99 



100 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

table at which a stern old general sat with some 
other officers, taking names. 

"Well, my boy," said the general, "what do 
you want?" 

"Please, sir, the king wants men, and I've 
come. ' ' 

The scarred old warrior did not laugh as the 
men outside had done, but there was just a twinkle 
in his eye as he said, "Good! Now I want you 
to answer a few questions. You know a soldier 
must always obey orders. Are you always obedi- 
ent?" 

Olaf remembered that sometimes he had not 
done just what mother had asked or what his 
father had told him, and as his cheeks began to 
burn he replied, "I'm afraid I'm not, sir; at 
least, not always." 

There was silence for a minute while the gen- 
eral's pen scratched, and then he looked up and 
said, "A soldier must be unselfish. His duty 
must come first, and he may have even to die for 
someone else. Are you unselfish?" 

Olaf began to feel more uncomfortable than 
ever. He had never thought that being a soldier 
of the king meant all this. 

But the officer did not seem to notice, and he 
went on, "Then he must be truthful, brave and 
pure, never shirking the difficult or the disagree- 
able. . . . Why, what's the matter?" 

The boy's eyes were filled with tears. 

"My lad, although you cannot say Yes to my 
questions, I believe you wish you could. Look! 
I will put your name down on this roll of the 
king's men. But he does not want them all at the 



CAESAR'S COLLAR 101 

front ; some are to stay at home, though he wants 
every man for his service. Home is your place. 
And every time you are tempted to be disobedient, 
selfish or untrue, I want you to pull yourself up 
and say, 'I cannot do that; I belong to the king!' 
That will keep you loyal to your sovereign, and it 
will help you to be valiant and true." 



XXIII 
THE QUEST OF THE SILVER KEY 

DO you know who the Incas are ? They are not 
children who do their homework carelessly 
— though sometimes they are, though it is spelt 
differently. The Incas were Indians who once 
lived in Peru, and had vast silver mines. 

Well, Jack had been reading about them one 
evening, and he was just closing the book when a 
strangely dressed Indian stepped out and said, 

"At last, great white master, I have found 
you. ' ' 

Now Jack liked the way the man spoke, for 
everyone likes politeness, so he replied, 

' l Have you been searching long ? I have always 
lived here/' 

"Yea, many moons, white master," said the 
other. "And now, if you will but bring a sack 
of silver — which can be had for the seeking, then 
the silver key can be bought. This will open the 
doors of the kingdom, and it shall be your own. 
Then you shall reign over us as our chief. Seek 
and you shall find, and the kingdom shall be 
yours." 

With that the Indian disappeared. Jack 
thought a minute. There was a sack in the wood- 
shed, so he went off, and he took with him an axe 

102 



THE QUEST OF THE SILVER KEY 103 

lest he should meet any foes, though what he 
expected to meet in his quest for the silver, I can- 
not tell you. The moon was shining, so that it was 
bright as day, and Jack trudged off manfully, to 
see where he could fill his sack. HJe had not gone 
more than a hundred miles or so when he saw at 
his feet a great basin of molten metal, shimmering 
and glimmering in the moonlight. There was no 
path down to it, but he crossed a field, clambered 
over some rocks and stooped down to fill the sack. 
But to his disgust, he found that it was what you 
have guessed, though what he had never thought 
possible : it was water — only water on which the 
moon was shining. 

He was a little disappointed, but he got back to 
the white road and tramped on in quest of the 
treasure. "Seek and you shall find, and the king- 
dom shall be yours/ 9 The words of the Indian 
buzzed in the boy's brain. Before long, he espied 
a clump of trees with gleaming silver leaves. 

"Now," he thought, "shall I climb up or cut 
the tree down first? Why, of course I have the 
axe. What a good thing I brought it. ' ' 

So he cut away at the trunk and soon with a 
mighty crash, the tree came down. But when the 
boy went with his sack to fill it, he saw it was a 
silver birch, and the leaves were only grey. On 
he went again. And joy! there in front of him 
was a hill of silver, the summit shining like the 
armour of a knight. He started to run towards it, 
saying to himself: 

"Why, I shall be able to fill as many sacks as 
I like now. The Indian was right : Seek and you 
shall find, and the kingdom shall be yours." 



104 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

It was harder work climbing the hill than he 
thought, but at last — and it is wonderful how 
many hard things we can do if only we take a 
step at a time and plod on — he was near the top 
and at the point where the silver began. But to 
his horror, he found that it was not silver at all, 
only frozen snow. The moon had played him 
another trick ! He flung down the sack. He threw 
away his axe. He resolved that he would waste 
no more time on such an errand, but would go back 
to bed before he caught cold. However, wonder- 
ful to tell, as he was on his way home, he met an 
angel — at least, he looked like an angel, for his 
raiment was white and glistening. 

"Well, my man/' said he, "and where are you 
going?" 

Jack was very pleased to hear him say "my 
man," instead of "little boy," and so he told the 
angel all about his quest for the silver key. 

"Ah^ said the angel at length. "What a good 
thing we met. Why, I have the very thing you 
are looking for. 9 9 

"No?" said Jack, thinking he must be dream- 
ing. 

"Yes!" replied the other. And putting his 
hand in the folds of his cloak, he drew out a pack- 
age. Carefully unwrapping the cloth in which it 
was wound, the angel came at last to a book, and 
in the middle of the book was a slender silver key, 
engraved with the words, "Love to God." 

"This is the key you were seeking, and it will 
open the kingdom for you," said the angel with a 
smile. 



THE QUEST OF THE SILVER KEY 105 

"But where is the door, now I have the key?" 
asked the boy. 

The angel pointing to the open book read aloud, 
"If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for 
her as for hid treasures, then thou shalt under- 
stand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge 
of God." 

Jack followed the angel's hand as he stretched 
it forth, and there stood the door. It was marked 
LIFE, and as he slipped the key into the lock, the 
door swung open on the most beautiful palace the 
boy had ever seen. There were other doors lead- 
ing from the entrance hall, and treasure-chests 
filled each apartment. 

The angel smiled again as Jack looked wonder- 
ingly about him eagerly reading the gold plates 
that showed the contents of each : Joy, Content- 
ment, Courage, Honour, Happiness. These were 
only a few of them, and to his delight, Jack found 
that his key opened every lock. 

"Say, that old Indian knew something, when 
he sent me on this quest, didn't he?" cried the lad. 
"Seek and you shall find, and the kingdom shall 
be yours." 

"Yes," replied the angel, "he was right, and 
love to God is the key that will open every pre- 
cious thing to you that the world contains. ' ' 



xxrv 

GOD'S GAEDEN 

THERE was once upon a time a king who was 
greatly beloved by his people, and nothing 
pleased him more than to receive from them some 
tokens of their love. And because they knew he 
was very fond of flowers, although the royal gar- 
dens were ablaze with colour all summer, they 
often sent to the palace baskets of choice blooms 
they had grown themselves. This made the king's 
heart glad. It shows what a lot of pleasure a 
little kindness can give to others. 

Baskets and bunches came every day. Some of 
them had nicely-written messages with them for 
the king to read. But for all that, the king was not 
altogether satisfied, for he sometimes wondered if 
the people really meant the kind things they 
said. He resolved to find out. "If they are gen- 
uinely true-hearted towards me," he said to him- 
self, "then they will be the same to everyone. 
Kind words ought to mean a kind heart.' 9 

Without a word to anyone, the king laid aside 
his crown and sceptre. He put on a long grey 
cloak that covered him from head to foot. Then 
he got a wide-brimmed hat that came well over 
his face, and with a pair of dark spectacles on, he 
made sure that no one would know him. So he 
set off on his journey. 

106 



GOD'S GARDEN 107 

The road was dusty, and soon the king got 
dusty too, so that he looked just like a pilgrim. 
"Now is. the time to try my plan," he thought 
with a smile. So he stopped at a house and said, 
"I am tired and thirsty, and have come from far. 
Could you kindly give a pilgrim a bowl of milk?" 

The woman, thinking it was some poor wan- 
derer, scowled as she said, "Oh no! There's a 
spring farther on. You can get some water there, 
and sit down while you drink it, if you are tired." 
And she slammed the door. 

That might be good enough for a pilgrim, but 
the king could not help wishing she had not sent 
him those flowers with the loving message of the 
day before. 

He went on to another house, and there he asked 
for a morsel of bread. But the man told him 
there was a baker's shop in the village where he 
could buy as much bread as he wanted, for said 
he, "We can't give bread to idle fellows. Be- 
gone!" And again the door was shut in his face. 

The king went on, very unhappy now; and 
rather sorry he had come, for he was disap- 
pointed. Suddenly he stopped. " I 'm wrong, ' ' he 
said. "They don't mean to be unkind. Perhaps 
they are too poor to give food away. I'll try 
another plan. " So at the next house, which had a 
pretty garden at the side, he said, "Could you 
spare a few flowers for a lonely pilgrim? They 
would make the road seem easier." But the man 
made some excuse about them being wanted for the 
market. So the king tried another house, and 
another, always seeing that it was a house with a 
garden, but at the last one, the woman said, "Do 



108 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

you think we've nothing else to do but grow flow- 
ers to give away? We have to work. If you want 
flowers, grow them or buy them!" And her hus- 
band nodded saying, i i Quite right ! ' ' 

They saw him sad, and tears up-filled his eyes. 
Then as he raised his hand to dry those drops, 
back fell the cloak of sombre grey and lo ! a robe 
of royal purple lay beneath. It was no stranger- 
pilgrim, but the king. And he had asked in vain ! 

If Christ the King came to your soul's garden 
would you have any flowers to offer Him? Ask 
mother the kind He likes best besides thought- 
fulness, thankfulness, gentleness, and love. 



XXV 

THE AWAKENING OF ARISTOBULUS 

rflHEEE were two great things about Aris- 
* tobulus. One was his name, which is a big one, 
and the other was his opinion of himself, which 
was bigger still. But though he felt very im- 
portant, that did not make him better-liked by the 
townsfolk. When he went out, he would strut 
along like a peacock, and if a poor man happened 
to cross his path, Aristobulus would say scorn- 
fully, ' ' Out of my way, dog ! ' ' 

No wonder people crossed the street when they 
saw him coming. Even the dogs of the blind men 
would try to tug their masters out of reach of the 
proud man's tongue. And the wise used to wag 
their heads and say, Pride goeth before a fall! 

One day this came true, though no one seemed 
to know just how it happened. Somebody had 
thrown a banana skin on the pavement (it could 
not have been a girl, for girls are too thoughtful ; 
and no boy would do anything so stupid and dan- 
gerous). However, Aristobulus must have slipped 
on it in some way, and he hurt his leg so badly 
that he found he could not get up. 

He was mad with pain and he roared for help. 
But then people were so used to seeing Aris- 
tobulus in a temper and to hearing him shout, that 
they took no notice, and there he lay. Fortunate- 

109 



110 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

ly, however, after some time, a man in a shabby 
coat who was coming along on the other side saw 
him, took pity on the proud Aristobulus, and went 
over. 

"Have you hurt yourself, sir?" 

"Of course I have ! Think I'm amusing myself 
lying here ? ' ' he growled. ' l Help me up ! Go on ! 
Don't stand there gaping at me as though I were 
an animal in the Zoo." 

The peasant tried first of all to bind up the 
injured limb, and all the time, Aristobulus was 
moaning with pain or else blaming the poor fel- 
low for his clumsiness. 

"How shall I get you home?" he asked at 
length. "You ought not to try to walk, even if 
you could." 

"And I couldn't even if I ought," replied the 
other. "Go and call a carriage for me, and for 
goodness' sake, do hurry up about it. Think I 
want to stay here on these hard flags all day?" 

There was only one place in the town where 
carriages could be hired so the peasant ran off as 
hard as he could. But the owner was a very cau- 
tious man. ' * Where do you want to go ?" he asked. 
"And who is going to pay me? You don't look 
as though you could afford to ride." 

That was not a very kind thing to say, but the 
peasant very patiently explained that it was not 
for himself, but for Aristobulus who would cer- 
tainly pay. 

"What! for him? He called me a dog yester- 
day. Not much! Let him walk home," said the 
man, and no carriage would he send. 

Wbat was to be done? The peasant was strong, 



THE AWAKENING OF ARISTOBULUS 111 

but he did not think he could carry Aristobulus 
home, even if he would let him. So after turning 
it over in his mind, he managed to borrow a 
wheelbarrow, and he trundled the rich merchant 
home in that ! 

The doctor set the broken thigh, though Aris- 
tobulus was fuming and storming all the time. But 
the doctor took no notice of his rudeness, and 
having done all he could for him, he settled his 
patient for the night. 

Sleep was impossible. But as he tossed in pain, 
two things kept coming back to mind and Aris- 
tobulus could not get rid of them. One was the 
kindness of both the peasant and the doctor ; the 
other was the thought that he had been extremely 
rude to them and very ungrateful for all they had 
tried to do for him. So first thing next morning, 
he sent his servant to find the peasant who had 
been such a friend in need. 

Now the peasant was on his way to ask how 
Aristobulus was, so the servant ushered him into 
his master's presence. 

The sick man looked up, and beckoning the 
other to approach he said, "I did not thank you 
for helping me yesterday. Tell me why you were 
so kind." 

The peasant shuffled from one foot to another, 
and turned his hat about in his hands. Then at 
last he said, "The Book, sire, the Book." 

' ' What do you mean I I don 't understand you. ' ' 

"It says, 'Love your enemies. . . •' " 

"But I'm not your enemy, my man. I have not 
seen you before. And yet . . . and yet your face 
seems familiar. What is your name?" 



112 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Karl Saviska, sire." 

A cloud passed over the face of the merchant. 
Then he said, "You are not the Saviska whose 
farm was sold last year for rent?" 

The man nodded, looking very uncomfortable, 
and fell to studying the pattern of the costly car- 
pet. 

"And you knew I turned you out? Yet you 
came to my assistance! Karl, youVe been a true 
friend to me, and you've taught me a lesson. I 
shall be proud and selfish no more. I will try to 
make amends to you." And he was as good as 
his word. Something in Aristobulus had awak- 
ened! 



XXVI 
THE BEAR'S TAIL 

THIS is a tale about a bear's tail, but if yon 
have been to the Zoo, you must have noticed 
that the funniest thing about a bear is — that he 
hasn't one. Now the lion, the kangaroo, even the 
monkey. . . . But the poor bear looks quite bare, 
just as though he had lost something. Has he? 
Did he have a tail once? The story says he had, 
and like all real stories it begins "Once upon a 
time." 

Once upon a time there was a bear roaming 
about, looking very miserable. Perhaps he was 
cross too — I have heard of people being as cross 
as a bear. The truth was that like all bears, he 
was very fond of honey — like boys are — and girls. 
And the other bears being fond of it too there was 
not a bit to be found. Just then a bird that had 
been soaring over the hills on a message for the 
Prince of the Fairies, spied him. So she came 
wheeling down and stopped just by the bear. 

"Morning, Ben," said she. (I didn't tell you 
that his name was Ben Bruin) . 

The bear growled something. He might have 
been a boy. 

"You don't look very sweet this morning. Why, 
you are just like some of the mortals I have met, 
First thing in the morning they. • . ." 

113 



114 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"I don't feel very sweet," interrupted the bear. 
"If yon had been hunting round for a little honey 
like I have for days and days, what would you 
feel like!" 

The bird just whistled to herself for a minute. 

"Honey, did you say? I never touch it. But 
what a good thing we met. I think I can put you 
in the way of some, though I cannot put it in your 
way. See? But you will have to climb for it!" 

So she told him that flying over the hill, she 
noticed a lot of bees round a cleft in the white 
rock. 

"And," she added, quite wisely, "where there 
are bees you may find honey. Not that I know 
much about them," she added. "Bees are too 
fond of leaving a sting behind them, like people 
with nasty tempers. Well, what do you say?" 

"I think I'll have a try," replied the bear. 
"Good-bye, I'm off." 

Now Ben Bruin was rather proud of the fact 
that he could walk upright like men do, but he 
found that it was no use trying to get up the hill 
like that. In fact, the bird was right. He would 
have to climb for it. So he set to work with might 
and main — that means on all fours, hands and 
knees. And I find that we can always climb best 
like that : working with our hands, but sometimes 
going down on our knees to pray. 

But try as he would, he did not get on at all 
well. He was rather short of breath and the hill 
was steep. And as sure as he sat down to rest 
he slid down too ! By mid-day he was only half- 
way to the rock. But as he held on to a young 
sapling, he saw something shining on his paw. He 



THE BEAR'S TAIL 115 

looked again. Then he looked at his other paws. 
Yes, on each paw he saw something he had forgot- 
ten. He had hooks on them — claws! So he put 
them all out and he found that by digging them 
into the ground he could get up ever so much 
better. And when he saw a fallen tree right across 
one of the steepest bits of the hill, he walked up 
this without any trouble. 

At last he got to the white rock, but the cleft 
was high up and he would still have to climb. He 
tried, and he tried, and he tried again. Then he 
discovered that by putting out all his hooks, he 
could pull himself up from one ledge to another. 
And there, sure enough, was the biggest store of 
honey he had ever seen. Some bees were there 
too and they did not like him coming. But Bruin 
did not mind, and filling his arms with honeycomb, 
he made off. 

Hie was careful to get some distance from the 
rock before he even tasted the honey. But at last 
when he thought he was safe, he sat down. He 
had, however, forgotten the lessons he ought to 
have learned on the way up, for he did more than 
sit down. He slid down! Yes! he slipped and 
slipped, just as though he were on a toboggan. 
How he kept his balance or how he kept the honey 
I can't tell. And, didn't he shout with pain? The 
other bears heard the noise and they all came to 
watch. And when he reached the foot of the hill, 
some of them helped him up. 

"Why, Ben Bruin,' f said one, " where 's your 
tail?" 

Ben looked. "I must have lost it on the way; 
but look, boys, I've got the honey. It was worth 



116 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

the climb. There's plenty more. I like to share 
a good thing when I can." 

So the rest of the bears went off too. Whether 
they did the same as Ben Brain and came down 
the same way or not, I do not know. But it is true 
that, to this day, bears have no tails except those 
that people tell about them. 

This is true too. To get the honey we have to 
climb! That means we must strive hard to be 
unselfish, pure and true. But there is something 
else worth knowing, that just as the Bible says 
about Israel, "He made him to suck honey out of 
the rocks," so God makes it possible for you and 
me to get sweetness out of the hard things, if 
we do them for His sake. Fancy that: we must 
learn our arithmetic, geography and grammar, 
so that we may be able to work better for Him 
when we grow up. We must do the little duties 
of each day for His sake. And then we shall find 
sweetness in hard things. The wise man who 
tried to serve God in this way found that obeying 
God's word made the commandments "Sweeter 
than honey and the honeycomb." And as Ben 
Bruin found we too shall prove that to climb is 
worth while. 



XXVII 
AEE YOUR FEET SHOD? 

THERE was a gentleman staying in a London 
hotel, and on his way down to breakfast one 
morning, he met one of the porters who said, 
" Good morning, sir ! ' ' 

That was not very unusual, but the gentleman 
noticed that the porter was looking at him in a 
very curious manner. So all the rest of the way 
downstairs, he wondered what it meant, and 
looked at himself in a long mirror he passed, 
thinking that he must have forgotten his collar 
or something. 

He could not see anything wrong, but that is 
not surprising. We can seldom see our own faults 
though other people's are quite plainly seen. 

While he was at breakfast, one of the waiters 
asked him, "Have you got your boots, sir?" 

"Yes; I have them on. Look here, what's the 
matter with everyone this morning? It isn't the 
1st of April, is it?" 

But the other simply smiled and said nothing. 

After breakfast, this gentleman went into the 
hall, and then he understood. There was another 
gentleman, looking very angry. His face was red 
with rage. And what do you think was the matter? 

He had one boot on, and he was holding another 

117 



118 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

in his hand, so that he had to stand on one foot, 
or if he tried to walk, he was going with one foot 
up and the other down ! 

"Look here!" he cried. "What am I to do? 
It is not much use telling me that someone else 
has got my other boot. I can't go out like this! 
I can't get this one on!" 

And everyone was trying to look sorry and not 
smile, though he did look so comical; while the 
hotel servants were scurrying to and fro, trying 
to find the man with the other boot. 

That reminds us of something Paul once wrote 
to his friends. He said, "Having your feet 
shod. ..." Why shod? 

Looks count for something. The gentleman 
felt he could not go out with only one boot on. 
And you will remember when the poor Prodigal 
came home, one of the first things his father said 
was, "Put a ring on his hand and some shoes on 
his feet!" He wanted him to look like a gentle- 
man. 

Then comfort counts for something. You have 
never had to walk along hard roads or cold pave- 
ments without your shoes. (What you do on the 
seashore at holiday time is not the same thing.) 
We saw two ragged little boys sitting in a shop 
doorway. One of them, in crossing the street, 
had trodden on a piece of glass, and cut his bare 
foot rather badly. But the other was a real chum. 
He tore a bit of the lining out of his jacket, and 
bound up the other's foot so that he could get 
home. But the old gentleman in the hotel was 
not going to risk anything like that. He wanted 
to be properly shod. 



ARE YOUR FEET SHOD? 119 

While looks and comfort are important, fitness 
is more important still. That was why such at- 
tention was paid to the boots our soldiers had. 
If they were worn or uncomfortable, the men 
could not march properly, and the Roman soldiers 
had nails in their sandals so that they could 
march without slipping on the great roads. Fit- 
ness meant everything. And the way the feet 
were shod helped the men to do their best. 

That applies to more than the men. In some 
of our great camps overseas, we saw them some- 
times shoeing the Army mules. When a mule did 
not want his shoes on, then the fun began. Ropes 
had to be fastened to his legs ; he would be pulled 
to the ground, and then several men would hold 
on to the ropes, without hurting him, until his 
shoes were nailed on. He did not know it, but we 
do : he could not be fit for the work he had to do 
unless he were properly shod. 

Have you got your shoes on? I mean the kind 
that Paul spoke about. Are you ready to do what 
the King commands'? 

If we are too busy with our play or too intent on 
our games when mother wants us to run an errand 
for her, our feet are not shod. If we are too tired 
or too cross to help another by doing a little kind- 
ness, our sandals of service are missing. 

But if we are always eager to be helpful and 
kind, ready to do anything in our power to lighten 
another's load or go on an errand of mercy, al- 
ways willing and obliging, then those about us — 
our parents, our teachers at school, our master 
when we go out into the world — will say, ' ' There 
is a boy, there is a girl, whose feet are shod!" 



XXVIII 
THE FAIRY QUEEN 

FAIRIES! There aren't any such things," 
said Roy decisively. And as he was nearly 
ten and had just gone into the next form at school, 
his wisdom was beyond question. 

"But I know there are," retorted little Ruth. 

' i Have you ever seen one ? ' ' asked her brother. 

"N-o! but . . . but I know there are plenty. 
On moonlight nights, they danoe right under this 
very tree, and Mummy is such a dear that I guess 
she 's a fairy growed up. ' ' 

"Well," said Roy, his hands deep in his 
trousers pockets, "I'd just like to see one, that's 
all!" 

"Honour bright! Would you?" piped a tiny 
voice. And right in front of the children sat a 
quaint dwarf with the most comical face you have 
ever seen. 

"Rather!" answered the boy, trying to look as 
though it would take more than a dwarf to sur- 
prise him. 

With that, the tiny fellow leapt to his feet, and 
pulling up two or three pieces of turf from the 
lawn, he beckoned the children to follow him, 
down a long, sloping track that seemed to lead 
right under the garden. 

120 



THE FAIRY QUEEN 121 

" Don't be afraid," said the dwarf. "It isn't 
dark." And it wasn't, for the glow-worms on 
each side made the track quite bright. "We are 
going to see the Fairy Queen ! ' ' 

After a time, they came to a great golden gate, 
and their guide gave the bell such a mighty tug 
that it went jangling and tangling all through the 
palace. 

The porter, who knew the dwarf quite well, ad- 
mitted them, and then they were taken into an 
ante-room to await audience with the Queen. She 
had gone out into the world, explained the dwarf, 
to see that her servants were carrying out her 
instructions, and so they might have to wait for 
some time till she returned. 

"What do her servants do in the big world?" 
said the dwarf, repeating Euth's question. "Oh, 
Queen Kindheart — the Queen of the Fairies, you 
know — sends her courtiers to cheer and help peo- 
ple who are in any kind of trouble, and though 
they are quite invisible, these servants of hers are 
always busy obeying her commands. ' ' 

Just then a fanfare of trumpets announced 
that the Queen had come back, and in a short 
time, the children, with their strange guide, were 
ushered into the royal presence. 

She was such a dainty little figure, seated there 
on her throne of ivory and gold, and although 
Roy and his sister felt a bit shy at first, she soon 
set them at their ease. (Ruth explained after- 
wards that she had a smile just like mother's, 
and so mother must really be a fairy "growed 
up!"). Before they quite knew how it came 
about, they had told her all about the brown and 



122 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

white rabbits in the garden, and the funny tricks 
their terrier knew. 

"Now," said the Queen at length, "would you 
like a drive in my chariot before you go back?" 

"Ra — yes, please, your majesty," said Roy. 
"We'd think it topping!" 

The golden chariot with two white horses was 
brought, and away they all went, the horses gal- 
loping up the sloping road that led to daylight. 
A wave of the Queen's sceptre, and they were 
quite invisible. "And now I can show you what 
we fairies do without anyone seeing us." 

Trudging along the road in front of them was 
an old man with a big bundle of firewood on his 
back. He was very frail, and the bundle seemed 
far too heavy for him. But some boys were run- 
ning behind, calling out rude names, and one was 
throwing mud at the poor fellow. 

The Queen spoke to one of the boys, and he 
suddenly cried to the others, "I say! Let's play 
the game ! We '11 go and help the old man with 
his load. ' ' And they did. 

There was a little boy, crying as though his 
heart would break. The Queen descended from 
the chariot, and whispered something in his ear ; 
suddenly the tiny fellow rubbed his eyes with his 
knuckles, and though that did not improve his 
looks, he started to smile again. 

Everywhere they went, with a wave of her 
sceptre or a gentle word, Queen Kindheart made 
cross faces look happy, and sad faces glad again. 
And all too quickly, it seemed to the children, they 
were back at the palace gates once more. 



THE FAIRY QUEEN 123 

"Well, Roy. You believe in fairies now, I 
suppose f " asked the Queen with a smile. 

Eoy looked very sheepish. Who could have told 
the Queen what he had said to Ruth? He did not 
know, but he just managed to stammer, ' ■ Oh, yes, 
your majesty! Quite!" 

"Then before you leave, I want to enroll you 
both in my service. Kneel!" 

Ruth and Roy knelt side by side upon the steps 
of the throne. And as the Queen laid her hand 
on each curly head, she said, "Remember, you are 
now in the service of Queen Kindheart. Every 
chance you get of doing a good turn for someone 
in need, you are showing your loyalty and love 
to me and to — a greater One who is your King ! 9 9 



XXIX 
MYRA OF THE MAGIC TOUCH 

M YEA'S father was a minister. They had 
come from a small country place with sweet 
little cottages, to a big factory town where tall 
chimneys belched forth black smoke, and where 
the hum of machinery filled the air all day long. 
The little girl had never seen such a place before. 
The shops and the busy streets were wonderful. 
But the thing that impressed her most was the 
number of mites, barefooted and poor, that she 
saw wandering about as though no one cared for 
them. 

She felt so sorry for these children that one 
day she had actually gone to the cupboard where 
her shoes were, and counted how many pairs she 
had, to see if there were enough to go round. But 
there was not one shoe each ! 

So behind her smiling face, there were often 
thoughts that were too sad for a child, and this 
Monday afternoon, she felt sadder than ever. 
Lessons were over, and creeping up to the study, 
she coiled herself in her father's big armchair, 
thinking of what he had told the people the day 
before about the poor folk he had been to see. 
How much they needed sympathy and help ! 

While she was wondering what she could do, 

124 



MYRA OF THE MAGIC TOUCH 125 

and feeling how tiny she was, her eyes filled with 
tears. Then through the tears she saw a mar- 
vellous sight. 

In the church, where the pulpit had stood, was 
a great shining throne, where an Angel sat, one 
clad in a robe that glistened like snow in the sun- 
light. Surging up to the throne, there was a vast 
throng of girls and boys. She knew by the sunny 
smile Who occupied the seat of honour, but it was 
some time before Myra could quite see what was 
happening in the front. But as she got nearer, 
she saw the Angel was giving something to each 
child who knelt before him. Some received tiny 
lamps that they were to carry to the dark places 
of life, that the gloom might be dispelled. Others 
were given a song with which to cheer the hearts 
of weary wayfarers. What would she get? Myra 
felt herself growing more excited every moment 
she got nearer, and when at last she too reached 
the steps of the throne, the angel said, "What 
shall I give thee, Myra, my child, for thy heart 
is tender?" 

' ' Just what it shall please thee to give, ' ' she 
replied. 

She held out her hand, but instead of putting 
anything in it, he laid one hand on hers, and 
placing the other on her brow, said, l ' Then I give 
thee the magic touch." 

Myra did not understand a bit what that meant, 
and all the way home she was wondering what it 
could be. She was thinking so hard that she 
scarcely noticed the barefooted little chap in 
front, until she heard his sobs. 

"Whatever is the matter, little man?" 



126 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

He lifted his face to hers, and Myra saw that 
the tears had made two white channels down his 
grimy cheeks. "I've slipped, and scraped my leg 
on those railings/' he whimpered, "And oh! it 
does hurt!" 

"Let us sit on these steps. Don't cry! We'll 
see what we can do. ' ' And with her handkerchief, 
and the ribbon she wore as a sash, Myra began 
to render first-aid. ' i Say if I hurt you. ' ' 

The tears had stopped, and the boy said, 
"You're not hurting a bit! Why, it feels better 
already." 

Was it the magic touch? I cannot say. But 
as she went along, the streets seemed full of sun- 
shine. Everyone who saw her bright smile felt 
happier. Sour looks vanished, and the care-lines 
were smoothed out from tired faces. One or two 
people who knew her, stopped to shake hands with 
the minister's little girl. And she said to herself, 
"Why, I know what it is — it's the magic touch!" 

Would you like it? It can be had for the ask- 
ing, for the magic touch is Sympathy. 



XXX 

SHARP AS A NEEDLE 

WA.NTED, a sharp boy, to make himself 
useful." That was an advertisement I 
read in the paper, and it made me think. One 
had often seen it put, "A smart boy," but who 
wants a sharp one? 

There are sharp people who do what is not 
quite right, and sharp people who say what hurts. 
But surely no one could want a boy who would 
do either. Then it came to me : why, they wanted 
a boy as sharp as a needle ! 

That is the first thing about a needle. When 
you were first trying to sew, you found how even 
the small point of a needle could hurt if you put 
it in the wrong place. That is the kind of sharp- 
ness that some people have. They are all point 
and they wound others as well as themselves. 
But used rightly, the sharpness of the needle is 
a fine thing. The point is made sharp so that 
it can get through things, and get through them 
without much pushing. That is what we must 
remember about lessons or our work. 

Then the needle has an eye. So have some 
little people, and they use it only to see faults 
in their playmates or to see reasons why they 
should not try to do right. But the needle uses its 

127 



128 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

eye better than that. Do you know what its eye is 
for? Of course you do. It is to take in something 
that it can carry along with it. 

That was the kind of boy that was wanted — 
one who would remember what he was told, one 
who would take in what he was taught and carry 
it along with him. And that is why you have 
lessons to learn, that you may be useful in the 
work of the world. 

Another thing about the needle is this : it must 
be straight. There are one or two like the 
surgeon's needle or the packing-needle that are 
meant to be bent, but most needles must be quite 
straight. You cannot do fine work with a crooked 
needle, and you cannot do much with a person 
who is not straight, that is, one who will not play 
the game and do what he knows to be right. 

It is very difficult to make a needle perfectly 
straight, but it is one of the first things they do 
when they are making them. After being heated 
a number of pieces of steel wire are rolled back- 
wards and forwards in a machine, and pressed 
against one another. And it is so with us. It is 
in our work and our play, while we have most to 
do with one another, that we learn to do what is 
fair and true, for no one likes to play with a child 
who will not be straight, and noble boys and girls 
know that to be upright and unselfish, to do right 
even when it is hard, are the qualities we admire 
most. 

The needle must be bright as well. A rusty one 
will stick in the cloth, and make the work very 
unpleasant, and brightness in girls and boys 
is more than polish — though good manners and 



SHARP AS A NEEDLE 129 

politeness are always necessary. This brightness 
is getting through one 's work, but doing it cheer- 
fully and willingly, so that it makes work a pleas- 
ure. Sulks or grumbles are like rust on the 
needle. 

That was the kind of boy they wanted in the 
city. And that is the kind everyone likes, one as 
sharp as a needle. 

A point to get through things, 
An eye to carry with us what is useful, 
Straightness so that we do the right, 
Brightness that will help us to do our 
work cheerfully, smoothly, gladly. 

These are some things the needle has, and like it, 
we must always be true as steel! 



XXXI 

THE MISSION OF THE MIGNONETTE 

[N a gorgeous garden bloomed a lovely rose. 
■*■ There were other roses, but none like this one, 
for it was exceedingly vain and always making the 
other flowers unhappy with its foolish airs. 

No one likes flowers or even children who have 
too good an opinion of themselves, and that was 
just what was the matter with this rose. She 
would fluff out her petals, and when the breezes 
blew, she would nod her head in a stately manner 
as though she were almost too great to listen to 
the messages they brought. 

Perhaps what made things worse was this : the 
old gardener seemed to pay very great attention 
to this rose. He would see that she was well sup- 
ported and that no ugly insects were troubling 
her by crawling round. So some of the young 
flowers got jealous. Then they started to sulk. 

"What is the use of growing at all?" com- 
plained little Polly Anthus. "He never looks at 
us!" 

"I feel the same," said the Mignonette, which 
made the Dahlia look round in surprise, for she 
was generally so sweet. 

"Don't fret, little flowers," he said. "You 
know, we all have our place to fill, and we have 

130 



THE MISSION OF THE MIGNONETTE 131 

to be just ourselves. The gardener thinks some- 
thing about us, and so does master, or we wouldn't 
be here at all!" 

But the flowers did fret. And this made the 
proud rose more pleased with herself than ever, 
for she knew that they were jealous of her. 

"Poor little things," she would say, "Did they 
do it to them, then?" And she would toss her 
head in her haughty way, adding, "Why don't 
you hurry up and grow? Then you might be 
noticed. ' ' 

So you can see that she was rude as well as 
vain. 

One night, something had evidently vexed the 
wind, for he came into the garden in a raging 
temper. He stormed and he raved, and went 
tearing up and down just like people who forget 
themselves and fly into a tantrum. So the little 
flowers were glad for once that they were so tiny. 
They nestled down in their beds, hoping that the 
wind would not notice them, and it was not until 
morning that they dared open their eyes. 

He had gone ! Everything was still except for 
the thrush in the orchard who was whistling a 
merry tune to himself, so the flowers lifted their 
heads and looked about. 

Something else had gone! 

They looked round the garden, but the proud 
rose was nowhere to be seen. Her place was 
empty. But on the ground just where she had 
stood was a number of red petals. 

Whether it was she who had vexed the wind 
or not, we cannot tell, but she had been blown 



132 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

up ! And the tiny flowers were glad they had been 
spared her fate. 

There are some advantages in being small. It 
is not always the grown-ups who are happiest, 
and it is not only big people who can do good in 
the world. That is what the Mignonette dis- 
covered ! 

When the gardener came past where the Mi- 
gnonette was growing, she noticed that he looked 
very troubled. Of course, she at once thought it 
was because his precious rose had gone, but when 
she saw him push his spectacles up on his fore- 
head so that he could read a letter, and heard 
him say, "Poor little chap!" she knew she was 
wrong. It could not be the rose. 

Suddenly he stooped down, and laying hold of 
a clump of Mignonette, he cut the stems and be- 
fore she had time to cry out, he bore her off to 
the tool-shed. He got a box, laid her inside with 
a few big leaves and put on the lid. 

Lying there in the dark, the Mignonette felt 
very unhappy. She was sorry she had ever 
grumbled about the quiet home in the garden, and 
before long, she was more sorry still. She was 
taken off somewhere, and the box was tossed and 
tumbled till now she was on her head and now 
on her side, and she hardly knew what would hap- 
pen next. 

But like most unpleasant things, the end of her 
troubles came. She heard the chink of scissors, 
the lid was lifted, and it was light again. 

She was in such a strange place. There was a 
long room with rows and rows of beds, and a lady 
with a white apron and such a sweet smile carried 



THE MISSION OF THE MIGNONETTE 133 

the flowers to a little boy who was lying very still 
in one of the cots. 

His eyes were closed, but the nurse said, "Look, 
here's something for you." 

He must have thought it was medicine, for he 
pretended to be asleep. 

Then she said, "Smell!" And of course, that 
sounded like medicine too, so he still kept quiet. 

But when she said, "Here's a box for you," 
he looked up quickly, for every boy likes to get 
a parcel of some kind, and reading the note that 
said, "With love from Uncle," he took the Mi- 
gnonette and held her so tightly in his little hot 
fingers that she could scarcely breathe. 

She felt faint and hung her head, so the nurse 
told the boy that if he would just let her have 
them for a few minutes, she would put the flowers 
in water, and he should have them quite close to 
his bed so that he could smell their perfume. 

They were put on his locker, and as the flowers 
saw the look of pleasure in the sick boy's face, 
and knew that he had forgotten his pain, it was 
worth all the tossing in the post to be able to give 
such pleasure. 

"Better to die here," said Mignonette to her- 
self, "than to live selfishly in the dear old garden 
and perhaps be blown to pieces like that rose." 

She was right. The rose had lived simply for 
herself and she was gone, but the Mignonette was 
living for that sick little fellow in the hospital. 
And do you know, there was not a patient in the 
whole of that ward who was not the happier for the 
scent of those wee flowers. 

When we give our best to cheer someone else, 



134 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

we are fulfilling our mission as the Mignonette 
did. The sweetness of a kind deed is carried far 
beyond our own lives, and its fragrance lasts long 
after the flowers are dead. 



XXXII 

THE TWO DOGS 

THEIE names were Pyrame and Pierrot. They 
were both French, and while one was black 
and white, the other was white and black. Gen- 
erally, they were good friends. It was only when 
Pierrot wanted his brother's bone that they did 
not get on well together, for, as you know, greedi- 
ness always means trouble. 

It was a good thing that this did not often hap- 
pen, for they both had to work hard, and when 
there is a quarrel, it makes one feel that one can- 
not do one's best. 

What? You did not know that dogs have to 
work? In France some of them do. They are 
harnessed to little carts, and they take round the 
milk or vegetables, just as their masters require. 

When the great war broke out, Andre, master's 
son, had to go. He belonged to the Machine Gun 
Corps, and he had to take Pierrot, who was to 
draw one of the ammunition carts. 

The two dogs had heard their masters talking, 
though they could not understand all they said, 
but just before Andre left, he called Pyrame aside 
and said, 

1 ' Well, old boy ! I have to leave you for a time, 
and Pierrot is going too. I want you to stay be- 

135 



136 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

hind and help the old pere with the milk-round. 
H|e can't do without you, so you must be brave 
and work hard till I get back." 

Pyrame looked up into his master's face, but 
he could not say anything, for a lump had come 
in his throat at the thought of being left behind. 
So he just wagged his tail very slowly as much 
as to say, "I quite understand, but don't you think 
it is rather hard on me to stay behind?" 

Months passed. The work was very tiring for 
one dog when there had been two instead of one, 
and many a time Pyrame wished that he could 
have gone off to the army instead of being left 
at home. But when he felt he was getting sorry 
for himself, he would recall what his young mas- 
ter had said about being brave, and he would tug 
at the little cart with all his might, as though he 
loved pulling it better than anything else in the 
world — though he didn't! 

One day, the dog knew that something was go- 
ing on. The old master was hobbling about the 
house as though he could not keep still. He would 
go to the window and look down the road. Then 
he would take off his spectacles and rub them 
very carefully as though he could not see through 
them. Then he would open the door and have 
another look. 

Pyrame was wondering if his master were ill, 
when he heard wheels crunching on the road, and 
the voice that he loved ! So he rushed out. There 
was young master getting out of a farmer's cart. 
He had his arm in a sling. But who do you think 
was with him? Why, Pierrot! 

Pierrot was wounded too. He had one leg 



THE TWO DOGS 137 

bandaged, and he could only limp into the house. 
But Pyrame noticed that he kept his chest out, 
just like a soldier's dog would do. 

It was some time before the two dogs could get 
a quiet time together, but at last, when the men 
were sitting before the fire, the wounded dog 
told his story. 

"You see, Pyrame,' ' he began, giving a lick 
first to his wounded paw, "while you have been 
having a good time at home, we have been doing 
something!" 

That was hardly a kind thing to say, and Py- 
rame felt it, for he had been doing more than his 
share of work. But then, Pierrot did not know 
as you do that one should be careful not to hurt 
people's feelings by saying thoughtless things. 

"Young master and I were sent up to the 
front, and one day the enemy was firing on a 
village we were holding. They were very anxious 
to drive us out, but our orders were to hold it at 
all costs. 

"But it was hard work, and our officer saw that 
we must get help. How was he going to get a 
message through? The enemy had cut the wires, 
or, at any rate, they were not working, so master 
said I would go. 

"I was rather glad, not that I was afraid to 
stay there, although the noise was dreadful. So 
they fastened a message to my collar, sent me 
back to the general for more men, and told me to 
hurry them up as fast as I could. And I did. But 
when I got back, master was shot in the arm, and 
while I was looking at him, I was hit in the leg, 



138 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

so here we are, and we have leave for a few 
weeks.' 9 

While Pierrot was finishing his story, there was 
a knock at the door and both dogs were barking 
their loudest, for it was the post-lady and she 
always got a welcome. And then young master 
came with a letter in his hand, and patting Pierrot 
on the head, he exclaimed, ' ' Splendid, old fellow ! 
You are to have the decoration for bravery ! Good 
boy!" 

Pierrot put out his chest still more and wagged 
his tail as much as to say, "Well, of course I" 
And poor old Pyrame wagged his tail too, for 
he was proud of his brother, but he felt very, very 
sad inside ! If only he could have been with the 
army instead of tugging a milk-cart! He might 
have won the medal that the French army gives 
to brave dogs. 

His master must have read his thoughts, for he 
took the faithful dog's head in his hands and said, 
"Good old Pyrame! You did not have a chance 
like Pierrot, but I think you are just as brave. 
While he was helping his country, you were help- 
ing old master, and I know pulling that cart on 
the hot streets is hard work! Doing your duty, 
no matter what it is or where it is, shows the kind 
of stuff you are! You are a hero too!" And 
Pyrame 's heart jumped and his tail wagged 
harder than ever. So if one dog was pleased with 
himself, the other was pleased that his master 
loved him, and I know which dog was the braver. 



xxxin 

THE POPPIES IN THE COEN 

A PATCH of poppies was growing in a corn- 
field, and a very pretty picture it made. But 
unhappily things were not as nice as they looked. 
The poppies had a fit of the sulks, and that spoils 
everything. 

It happened this way. The flowers opened their 
eyes one morning, just after they first got their 
lovely new dresses. These were of rich red ma- 
terial, and they made the poppies feel very proud 
indeed. 

To their great annoyance, however, they found 
a lot of green corn growing round them, and be- 
cause the corn was taller than the poppies, it 
could not help looking down on them, though not 
in the way they thought. Many people are like 
that. They imagine things and so make them- 
selves miserable and others too! 

"I declare," remarked one poppy, shaking out 
the folds of her crimson skirt, "what a place to 
live in! There's positively no room to breathe 
with these horrid cornstalks crowding round. I 
wish they wouldn't stare so!" 

i i Yes, ' ' added her sister. ' i And how important 
they try to seem, lifting their heads so high and 
looking down on us as though they were far su- 

139 



140 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

perior. If they were well-dressed like we are, 
they might have reason to be proud. I shall cer- 
tainly lodge a complaint !" 

Just then, the hedge who had been listening to 
the flowers thought he would join in. "Not so 
fast, my pretty poppies! If you knew a little 
more, you would say less. Don't you think you 
are a bit hasty in speaking in that unkind way? 
I am a good deal older than you, and having lived 
here all my life, I have seen quite a lot of your 
family at different times. Yes, and a good many 
harvests. 

' ' The corn you despise will not always be green. 
By and by it will turn to gold, and that is what 
the farmer is waiting for. When he comes round 
here, it is not to admire you, beautiful as you look 
in your fine clothes! He hardly gives you a 
thought! He comes to see the corn changing 
from green to gold under the kisses of the warm 
sun. ' ' 

The flowers hung their heads, but the hedge 
was only just getting under way, and he went on : 

"When the corn is ripe, what do you think 
happens? It is carefully reaped, carted off to the 
miller, and he grinds it up till the whiteness of 
its heart is seen. Then it is made into bread, 
and that makes the world go round. Its clothes 
may not be as gay as yours, but what of that? 

"Take a lesson from the children. When they 
see anyone not very well-off or not as well- 
dressed, they don't complain because they have to 
live in the same world with them. Not they! 
Instead, they are glad that God has given them 
such kind mothers and fathers who provide nice 



THE POPPIES IN THE CORN 141 

cfothes to wear and let them have a good time. 
And because of the blessings they enjoy, they are 
always on the look-out for someone to whom they 
can do a good turn. 

"So you see, my pretty poppies, beauty is not 
a thing of clothes. It is something in the heart, 
shining in the face and sounding in the voice. 
But there, I'm getting quite a preacher, and you 
did not know any better, did you?" 

The flowers were sorry they had been so silly, 
and they promised the old hedge that they would 
never despise anyone again, no matter how shabby 
or plain their clothes might be, but instead, they 
would try to gladden some other heart every day. 
And so, they lived happily ever after. 



XXXIV 
CAMOUFLAGE 

ONE day in France, I met a soldier friend 
walking with a paint-bucket and a brash in 
his hand, so I asked him what he was going to do. 

" You didn't know that I was a bit of an artist, 
did you? I'm just off to do a bit of camelflash." 
(That was his way of saying the big word at the 
head of this page.) 

Of course, you know what the word means. You 
may have seen ships painted with strange streaks 
or buildings all decked out with queer patches 
of paint in all kinds of shapes, as though some- 
one had been trying to mend holes in their clothes 
and had done it very badly. 

The reason that these patches are painted as 
I have described is so that, in time of war, the 
enemy airmen or others who are on the look-out 
with field-glasses, may not be able to see things 
just as they are. 

The big guns were screened with nets, covered 
with leaves or pieces of green cloth, so that from 
the air they looked like the land round about. But 
while you know all this, do you know who taught 
us to do these things? We learned it from Nature 
herself. 

In winter, the earth puts on camouflage till you 

142 



CAMOUFLAGE 143 

might think that the flowers and the trees would 
never be seen again, but she is only pretending to 
be dead. 

There are some butterflies so like the brown 
leaves of autumn, and they keep so still, that if 
a bird should happen to be near them, they look 
just like leaves and nothing more, and the bird 
never sees them. 

Some fish rest on the beds of streams, and 
when they do so, they can change the colour of 
their backs just to the shade of the river-bed, 
while other fish called Perch, that live generally 
in rivers with a lot of reeds and rushes, are 
marked with dark stripes, like the reeds. 

The tiger's stripes are for a similar reason. He 
lives in the wild jungle amid the canes and tall 
grass, and so those dark stripes on his coat make 
him so that he can scarcely be seen, while the 
Polar Bear is always white because his home is 
among the icefields and the icebergs. This is how 
Nature takes care of her children. 

Some animals can camouflage themselves even 
more wonderfully. The Scotch Hare is brown in 
summer, but when the snow is on the ground his 
coat turns white. And the Ptarmigan, a bird that 
also lives in Scotland, has white feathers in win- 
ter, but in the summer and autumn it is as brown 
as the grouse. 

But which is the most wonderful of all the 
animals in this? Surely the chameleon, for it can 
change its colour in the most marvellous way. 
Some soldiers in the East found a chameleon one 
day, and remembering what they had heard at 
school about him, they thought they would see 



144 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

what he could do. He was on the sand, and his 
colour was quite yellow, so they laid him on an 
army blanket and he went a dark brown. l i Good ! ' ' 
they said. "Now get some of those leaves, and 
put them round him. ' ' 

That made the chameleon decide that green was 
his favourite colour, and it was only when one 
of them wanted to put him on a Tartan plaid with 
its many colours that the game stopped. What 
would have happened then, I wonder ! 

Now all this shows us something worth remem- 
bering. We grow like the people we admire most, 
so we should choose good companions, always sail 
under our true colours, and never be ashamed of 
doing right. 

The right use of Camouflage helps us to serve 
our King in this way too. We can cover what 
might be a sulky face with a smile, and instead 
of speaking the word that might sting, we can 
keep it back and speak a kind one that will help. 
Then the nasty feeling will vanish, and we shall 
be happy again. 



XXXV 

THE HELPERS 

IT happened that in my dreams I went to the 
place where men and women, and girls and 
boys, get their life-work. It was a beautiful build- 
ing, with wide marble steps, high columns, and 
carved oak doors, and it was called the Temple 
of Life. 

They took me to the office where a lot of people 
were waiting their turn, for this was where the 
tasks were given out. Some of the people had 
come back for more work. They were mothers 
and fathers who had been busy toiling for their 
children for years, and some were there for the 
first time. These were the girls and boys, and I 
was very interested in what they would get. 

Who do you think was attending to them all? 
It was an old gentleman with a long white beard, 
and flowing locks. No, not Santa Claus, but it 
may have been his brother, for they were certainly 
very much alike. 

He was talking to a man who had evidently 
been there pretty often, and I liked the kindly 
amile with which he said to the man, "Yes, of 
course you enjoy your work, the more heart you 
put into it! Everyone tells me that!" 

"True," said the man, "but, Father Time, I 
Jo wish you wouldn't hurry us along quite so 

145 



146 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

fast!" At which, the old man laughed till the 
rafters rang. 

So this was Father Time! I had never seen 
him before, and I had not noticed the hour-glass 
by his side. But I had always thought he was a 
surly fellow, and instead, he was one of the j oi- 
liest, kindest-looking old gentlemen I have ever 
seen. 

On the people passed, young and old. And 
Father Time was handing them rolls of parch- 
ment, with the seal of the King attached. These 
were their orders, and as they read them, they 
knew just what their Lord required them to do. 

As there was no chance of a word with the old 
man just then, I went outside, where some of the 
folk were talking about their orders. One man 
was saying, "I hoped for something quite differ- 
ent, but I have to go back to the same work I 
have been doing for years." While a lady who 
had been busy tending the wounded, was now go- 
ing back to her work at home. 

Then I saw two children, and as I love girls 
and boys, I went up to them to see what they had 
to do, for they both looked rather disappointed. 

"What have I got?" the boy said to his sister. 
"I've got the miserables! Here, I wanted to be a 
sailor and go off looking for a treasure island, and 
Father Time has given me a lot of geography to 
learn, and a whole lot of sums. And I just hate 
sums! What have you got?" 

"Oh, he's given me a lot of needlework to do, 
and a lot of horrid spelling to learn. I detest 
sewing, and as for these silly old words — And I 
wanted to be a hospital nurse ! It isn 't fair ! ' ' 



THE HELPERS 147 

"Hear, hear!" said someone. And a most 
untidy little fellow came pushing up to the chil- 
dren. "I agree ! Say, let's be friends." 

"But who are you?" asked the boy. 

"What the little girl said: 'Tisn ? t Fair— that's 
my name. I don't hold with lessons and all that. 
Seems to me that we oughtn't to have to do things 
we don't like. And that's just what C. B. says 
too!" 

"Who is C. B.?" questioned the girl, for up to 
this she had not been able to get in a word. 

"Who's C. B.? Why, don't you know him? 
He's my cousin, Mr. Dunn. Can't B. Dunn — 
that's his full name. Old Father Time doesn't 
care for us. Says we will never do any good in 
this world. But then, what's the use of worrying? 
We please ourselves, and that's something. If 
you'd like to stay and live with us, I think 
you " 

"Excuse me," said another little fellow, rais j 
ing his cap very politely, "but I have been sent 
by Father Time to see if I can be of any service 
to you. Please do not have anything to do with 
that boy. He is always making mischief, and he 
does more to hinder people with their work than 
you would believe. But, I'm sorry, I haven't 
told you who I am. My name is Timothy — Tim- 
othy Try, at your service. ' ' 

"We are very glad you came," chimed in the 
little girl. "We were both feeling rather dis- 
couraged, and in fact, I felt like giving my work 
back to Father Time and telling him I couldn't 
do it." 

Ah!" said Timothy. "That is just how that 



a 



148 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

fellow makes people feel. It is a good thing you 
did not meet his cousin — Can't B. Dunn." 

"But we heard about him," cried the boy. "I 
should think those two are the worst discouragers 
there ever were ! ' ' 

"That is why we are here. Dear me, I didn't 
tell you about Percy." 

1 ' Percy who ? ' f asked the children, both at once. 

"Why, my brother-helper, Percy Verance." 

"Say," the boy broke in, "he isn't a foreigner, 
is he? It sounds a queer name." 

"Foreigner? Not he. He's loyal to the back- 
bone. We both are. If you are in any kind of 
difficulty, all you have to do is to clap your hands 
three times, like they do in the Arabian Nights, 
and we will be there to help — one at each elbow!" 

"Timothy Try and Percy Verance!" the chil- 
dren cried, and they laughed so gleefully that I 
woke up. 

Who could they be? Then I remembered that 
when good old Father Time sets us a task, no 
matter how hard it is Try and Perseverance are 
two helpers who have never been known to fail. 



XXXVI 
THE QUAERELSOME GIANTS 

MAPS are useful in many ways, and if you 
look at one of Ireland, it may help you to 
understand this story better. On the east coast, 
you will find a cape marked Howth Head. It is 
near to Dublin. And ages and ages ago, so an 
Irishman told me, a giant lived on this very 
headland. 

He was a monstrous fellow (the giant, I mean), 
and not as good-tempered as you are, for he had a 
silly way of getting cross for scarcely nothing at 
all. 

Now on Bray Head, 14 miles farther south, 
stood the castle of another giant, and although 
the distance seems so great to us, it was not much 
to these mighty men. The result was, not only 
could they see one another quite well, but one 
could actually hear the spiteful things his rival 
on the other headland might be saying. 

That was rather a pity. We can often avoid a 
quarrel when we won't hear the unkind words 
that other children sometimes use, and at any 
rate, it always takes two to make a quarrel. 

Well, these two giants were always snarling 
and quarrelling. One day, the Dublin giant was 
more tantalising than usual, and he said, quite 
loudly, so that the other could hear, that Bray 

149 



150 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

was the right place for a giant who could do it 
so well ! 

At that, the giant of Bray picked up a huge 
piece of rock, bigger than your house, and he 
hurled it at his foe, 14 miles away. But he was 
not nearly as strong as he thought, for instead of 
hitting the other giant, the rock fell in the sea, 
mid-way between the two headlands. And there 
it made an island, called Dalkey Island, which 
you can also find on your map. 

The Dublin giant was greatly amused at his 
rival's temper, and he shouted, "You are a funny 
fellow! When the children hear about us, they 
will think we are the silliest giants in history! 
Temper doesn't show strength! It only makes us 
do things we can't undo !" 

"What do you mean?" asked the other giant, 
still a bit angry. 

"Why, you've left that rock there for people to 
see how we used to behave, and perhaps some 
ship will run on it in the dark and be wrecked." 

"I never thought of that," replied Bray. So 
he strode into the sea, meaning to carry the rock 
back to the land again. But the water had made 
it so slippery that he could not get hold of it 
properly. 

Now the other giant had come to see what was 
going on, and he had a try. Then they both tried, 
but it was no use. And there the rock remains 
to this day! 

Well, seeing that they could not move it, the 
giants stood for a minute wondering what to do. 
Then Dublin said to the other, "Leave it! Let us 
shake hands and be friends ! That rock will re- 



THE QUARRELSOME GIANTS 151 

mind us that we ought to use our strength not 
to harm one another, but to help someone from 
this time on!" 

So the other said, "Righto !" And the compact 
was made. 

Do good with all your heart and might; 
Do good, be good, from morn till night, 
Let voice be kind and face be bright; 
Do good, be good! That's all I 



XXXVII 

THE PATHFINDER 

HP HERE is a picture that you may have seen. 
-*• It is of a boy, who is standing in a room, and 
he is somewhat strangely dressed. He has a wide- 
brimmed hat, just like a rancher from the Wild 
West, a khaki shirt and short breeches, while from 
his belt hangs a large knife. 

You have guessed what he is? Eight! first 
time. He is a boy-scout. 

He has a map in front of him, and he has been 
busy tracing out the track for his troop, for he 
is the pathfinder. That is why the artist has 
given his picture that title. 

But while busy looking out the way for others 
to take, a thought has occurred to him. He needs 
a guide to show him the way through life if he 
is to be a true man and to prove a help to others. 
And there by the boy's side, the Guide appears. 

He is clad in a long, white robe. He holds a 
staff in his hand, and the sandals show that he 
is ready for the road. So he has laid his hand 
on the boy's shoulder, and he is saying in the 
scout's ears, "I will show thee the path of life! 
. . . I am the way!" 

The look on the lad's face plainly shows that 

152 



THE PATHFINDER 153 

not only has he heard, but he has resolved to fol- 
low this Leader as long as life lasts. 

That boy is like a brave man who had to pass 
through all kinds of dangerous places, and who 
travelled to strange cities on service for his king. 
He always had to depend upon the Pathfinder, 
and that man, whose name was Paul, never found 
Him to fail. 

There was another who went through the 
jungles and swamps of Central Africa, who even 
penetrated where no other white man had ever 
been, for he was doing the same kind of work as 
Paul. And David Livingstone knew how the 
Guide was always going before him to open up 
his way. 

So you will do great things in the world and 
for your fellow-men. You will bring a smile to 
sad faces, and sunshine to many a shadowed soul. 
And what is more, if you follow the Pathfinder 
you will at last reach the City of the Great King. 



XXXVIII 
OUR DAILY BREAD 

RONALD came down two stairs at a time, and 
as soon as he reached the table, he called 
out, "What's for brek, Mummie? I'm awfully 
hungry!" 

Mother smiled as she said, "You mean 
very ; don't you?" She was always smiling ex- 
cept when she was very tired, and even then, the 
smile got through a bit. "There's miracle for 
breakfast, for one thing!" 

The boy looked puzzled, but he guessed that his 
mother must have something good when she talked 
like that. He asked, "What is it?" 

She held up a . No ! I must not tell you 

yet. 

"But I don't call that a miracle," said Ronald. 
"Why, it's only " 

"Why that 'only'? Do you remember that 
day when people were so hungry; and Jesus 
took a few loaves and blessed them ; then fed all 
those people? That was a miracle. Don't you 
think it is a bigger miracle to feed all the people 
in the world? Yes, and especially when some of 
them are boys like you with such appetites!" 

' ' I never thought of that, ' ' replied Ronald. ' ' It 
is rather wonderful when you think of it. ' f 

154 



OUR DAILY BREAD 155 

"It is," mother said, "and it is even more 
wonderful when yon think of this : 

"'Back of the loaf is the snowy flour, 
Back of the flour, the mill; 
Back of the mill is the wheat and shower. 
And the sun, and the Father's will/ " 

"Say! Did you make that np, Mummies?" 
"Oh, no!" she replied, "but it's true." 
Ronald was now so busy with his breakfast that 
he could not talk much, for his mouth was full, 
and of course, we never talk then. So his mother 
had it all to herself for she could see that the boy 
was interested. 

"The grain comes from all over the world — 
Canada, America, Australia, Eussia — And where 
else, father?" But father was busy behind his 
newspaper. 

"Men we have never seen, sow the seed after 
having ploughed and prepared the ground. Then 
while men rest, God takes a turn. The sun, the 
showers, the soil, the dew are all God's servants, 
and they help. Then it is the men's turn again, 
and the reaping time comes. The railway men 
lend a hand, and our sailors bring it along the 
great ocean ways to our ports. 

' ' The miller is ready to do his part. The grain 
is taken up into the mill, where it is carried along 
swift-moving belts. It passes over powerful mag- 
nets that take out any pieces of metal or nails 
that may have got among the grain. The wash- 
ing comes next, so that all the bits of soil and 
gravel that made a home for the grain while it 
was growing are carried away. And then it goes 



156 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

through one machine after another till the rough 
covering is taken off the grain, and the pure white 
flour is seen. 

11 While we are fast asleep, the bakers are 
busy making that white flour into nice brown, 
crusty loaves. And when we cut them up into 
slices and eat them, the cornfield becomes brain 
and muscle and life to us all. What do you think 
of that? Isn't bread a miracle ?" 

And Ronald, busy though he was with the mir- 
acle, replied, 6 ' I should just think it is ! IVe never 
thought of that before ! ' ' 

There are many of us just like that boy. We 
have never thought of it, or if we have thought 
where our bread comes from, we never get past 
the baker's shop. We must look beyond the shop, 
past the mill, past the fields, right up to God, and 
say: 

"We thank Thee for our daily bread, 
For seed-time, harvest, sun and rain; 
For garners full as Thou hast said, 
For ships that brought it o'er the main. 

"Dear Lord, accept our praise to-day, 
And heavenly manna may we eat, 
That boldly we may tread life's way; 
Then cast our crowns before Thy feet/' 



THE EED REBEL 

NO one can measure the mischief that this little 
fellow did. He lived in a cave with strong, 
white gates at the entrance, and these gates could 
be shut in an instant. So the rebel dwelt secure, 
and few ever got near him. But they heard of his 
doings nevertheless. 

He delighted in making trouble. People on 
their way to or from the market, would often be 
stopped to hear strange tales about the unkind- 
ness of some of their friends, and so a lot of need- 
less jealousy and unhappiness was caused, for I 
must tell you what these people did not know: 
these tales were not true. 

At other times, the rebel would go about mak- 
ing people cross by saying all the nasty, spiteful 
things he could think of. And so more unpleas- 
antness would be caused. In fact, the rebel was 
happiest when he was making mischief. 

If the people had been as sensible as you, they 
would not have listened to such idle tales. They 
would have believed the best of everyone, and 
gone on their way. 

Now it is only fair to say that the rebel who 
thus wrought such harm by disobeying his prince 
did not always mean to do it. If he had stopped 

157 



158 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

to think, he might not have acted in that way 
at all. But there ! He did not think, and so there 
was endless trouble. 

The people at last could stand it no longer, so 
they sent word to the prince, and one day a mes- 
senger arrived at the rebel's cave. He was just 
in time to hear for himself what the rebel was 
like. 

Mr. Rebel was just inside his cave, calling out 
rude names to the passers-by, and jeering and 
snarling by turns, like some fierce watch-dog. So 
the messenger waited, surprised and sad, till the 
fit was over. Then he approached the cave and 
said, " Don't you think that you are both foolish 
and wrong to go on like this ? I don 't wonder that 
people call you the Red Rebel ! You are a perfect 
nuisance to everyone who comes within sound of 
you ! ' ' 

The rebel was losing his temper again when 
he suddenly thought, by the uniform the man 
wore, that perhaps he had come from the palace, 
so he swallowed the angry words and said, "Why 
do you call me that? I'm not a rebel!" 

"You may not think you are, but you are be- 
cause you don't think! When you speak angrily 
or unkindly, you are not only breaking the 
prince's laws but you are also breaking his heart. 
But there! I have not come to lecture you. I 
am the bearer of a message from the prince. He 
wants you to enter his service, so that you need 
never be called rebel again." 

"But what does he want me to do?" asked the 
other, feeling more ashamed than he wanted the 
messenger to see. 



THE RED REBEL 159 

"You can serve the prince by being Truthful, 
Obliging, Nice to everyone, Gentle, Uncomplain- 
ing, and Encouraging. If you will give me your 
promise to be that, then he will confer a new title 
on you." 

' ' Very well ! I '11 promise. What is the title ? J ' 

"What I have said. You will find that the 
first letter of each word spells T-O-N-G-U-E. 
That is the name by which the prince wants you 
to be known. " 

"Well, it certainly sounds better than rebel !" 
And henceforth, the man in the red cave with the 
ivory gates tried to please his prince. 

We have all seen the cave and we know who 
lives in it. We must see to it that instead of being 
a rebel, its occupant always does the bidding of 
the prince. 



XL 
GLUM OB GLAD? 

CARRIO was cross ! Because he had a holiday, 
of course it must rain, and the picnic was 
off ! So he stood at the window looking out, and 
making himself utterly miserable. 

Mother suggested that he should get his Mec- 
cano and build something, but he didn't want to 
do that. He wanted to go out ! And even when 
the rain pattered against the panes to attract his 
attention, and the drops said, "Watch us have a 
race down the window," that was no good. He 
grumbled worse than ever. 

When dinner-time came, you can guess how he 
looked. His face was all puckered up and the 
corners of his mouth were down. If little folk 
knew what they look like when they are cross, they 
would not get peevish again. 

Carrio didn't want any dinner. He grumbled 
at the meat. He grumbled at the pudding. And 
he was just beginning another growl when mother 
said, "Why, it has stopped raining! I believe 
it is going to clear up. You will be able to go out 
this afternoon, and I would like you to leave some 
eggs at old Mrs. Dawson's, down in the village. 
She has been so ill, and " 

1 ' I don 't want to ! It 's no good going out now, " 
broke in Carrio. 

160 



GLUM OR GLAD? 161 

"But why?" asked his mother. "You were 
grumbling all morning because you could not go 
out, and now you don't want to! You are a boy I 
Never mind ! I will leave the eggs myself. I had 
a little surprise for you; but it doesn't matter!" 

Carrio slouched off to the breakfast-room, glum 
as could be. "I'm sick of everything!" he ex- 
claimed. "There! it's school again to-morrow. 
I hate it!" And he went on like this until bed- 
time, making everyone nearly as miserable as 
himself. 

He was just in bed when a visitor arrived, and 
a queer visitor he was! A strange little man 
jumped on the bed, and cried, "Hello, Glum! 
You've had a grand time to-day. I've heard you. 
Now you must come with me ! ' ' 

"But I don't want. ..." Carrio began. 

"No 'buts/ my boy! I'm going to give you 
the chance of your life. ' ' 

The boy, seeing he could not help himself, got 
up, and they went on until they came to a hospital. 
They entered a long room filled with beds. "Hop 
in here !" said the man, stopping beside one of the 
beds. "You were complaining to-day about go- 
ing out. Change places with this little chap here ; 
there's something the matter with his back, and 
he can never go out to run and jump like you can. 
I think it is just the thing for you to change with 
him!" 

1 ' I didn 't mean that, f f said Carrio. * i Please let 
me go back, and I'll never grumble about going 
out again." 

"Well, next time you feel like grumbling, I 
want you to say, ' Shall I be glum or glad?' " 



162 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Yes, I'll promise/ ' Carrio agreed. 

"Right! Well go. No, not that way. We 
haven't done yet!" 

They came to a poor room where a weak woman 
was working a sewing-machine, and she was just 
saying to her two hungry children, "Be brave, 
dearies. As soon as I finish this work we shall 
have some money, and then I'll get something for 
you to eat. Won't that be good!" 

"Strikes me this is just the place for you, 
Carrio. No dinners to grumble about here!" 

But the boy, almost in tears, said, "Let me go 
back. You know I've promised." 

"What! Glum or glad? Good! But we haven't 
finished yet!" 

This time it was a hot country, where the people 
were savage and ignorant. "Just the place for 
you, my boy ! ' ' said the guide again. i i No schools, 
not even a Sunday School, though you may get a 
few thrashings a day to make up for it. A fine 
country for a grumbler like you!" 

1 * Please take me back. I see now what a little 
beast I've been, and I'll never grumble at any- 
thing again." 

"All right! Then it's a bargain. If you feel 
like complaining about anything again, you'll 
ask, i Shall I be glum or glad?' Then see that 
Glad gets it every time!" 



XLI 
THE WIZARD OF THE WOODS 

THE wizard was sitting in his hut, warming his 
hands over a tiny fire and looking very mys- 
terious, when three strangers approached. 

They bowed low, and said, i ' wisest and most 
wonderful of men, we would ask a boon." 

The aged man rubbed the smoke from his eyes, 
evidently well pleased at the men's words, and 
said, "And what is the boon ye crave ?" 

"I want to be wealthy,' ' said the first, "with a 
fine house and a large number of servants.' ' 

"Indeed!" came the answer. "Many a time 
have I heard that, but only he is rich who uses the 
gifts of life aright. Here are three bags. Look 
well, choose well, use well; so shalt thou be 
great!" 

The man looked at the bags to which the wizard 
pointed. One was small but it was full of rubies. 
The second was larger, and full of gold coins. 
While the third was larger still, and was heaped 
up with grain. 

"I can soon make up my mind," said the man 
to himself, so turning to the wizard he said, "I 
am not greedy, so I will take the smallest bag — 
the one with the rubies." And having made his 
choice, he stood aside. 

It was now the turn of the second man. "I 

163 



164 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

want to be rich too, but I am willing to work for 
my wealth. There is nothing I would like better 
than to be a prosperous merchant. Can you help 
me?" 

"Rich and prosperous!" remarked the wizard, 
looking very wise. "Well, thou shalt have the 
same chance as thy friend." So putting another 
bag beside the two he said, "Here are three bags 
as before. Look well, choose well, use well: that 
is the secret of prosperity." 

"Rubies are not much use to me," thought the 
man, "and grain is less. If I take the gold, I can 
buy goods to trade with, and then I can obtain 
precious stones if I want them, and as much 
grain as my family needs." So he chose the bag 
of gold. 

The last man came in the same way, and three 
bags were set before him so that he could have 
the same chance as the others. "I think I will 
take the grain," he said. "I want to be useful 
as well as wealthy, and people will expect me to 
do good with thy gift, most wise ! Besides, if 
I plant the grain, perchance when my harvest is 
sold, I shall be able to get both gold and gems." 

The men returned to their own land, each very 
well pleased with himself, and lest they should 
forget what the wise wizard had said, they kept 
mumbling, "Choose well, use well; so shalt thou 
be great!" 

When they got back, the man with the rubies, 
knowing that they were valuable, put such a high 
price on them that no one could afford to buy 
them, and as he was in a hurry to get rich, he 
would not alter the price. Consequently, he had 



THE WIZARD OF THE WOODS 165 

to hoard them until some wealthy buyer of pre- 
cious stones should happen to come along. So he 
remained poor. 

The other, who had chosen the gold pieces, was 
laughing to himself. "Serves him right! Who 
wants rubies when winter is coming on? I have 
a better plan than his. I know what I shall do." 

He bought a lot of cloth and costly robes, and 
because he too was anxious to get rich quickly, 
he put a high price on all his goods. But when 
the people came to look they said, ' ' They are very 
fine, but garments that are not so beautiful will 
keep out the cold just as well. We must wait till 
times are better before we can afford clothes like 
these." So the man had to keep his stock and 
wait. 

Meanwhile, the man with the grain had sown 
it, and when autumn came, the harvest was very 
bountiful. He kept back a part of it for his own 
use, and next season he planted the rest of the 
seed again. The crops were better still. So he 
sold his grain that the people might have bread, 
and they blessed him, for they had known what it 
was to be hungry. They could live without gems 
and without costly robes, for they still had their 
home-spun, but bread they must have. 

As time went on, the two who were thinking of 
themselves and their hoped-for riches found them- 
selves getting poorer and poorer, for with their 
idle dreams and their shops to mind, they could 
not settle to work. While he who wanted to be of 
service to others had gold pieces and rubies as 
well. He had something even more precious. He 
had gained the love of the poor folk who ate the 



166 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

bread of his harvests, and he had discovered the 
joy of doing good. In choosing well, using well, 
lie had learned wisdom, and one wiser even than 
the wizard says that "wisdom is more precious 
than rubies." 

The sure way to happiness is to sow seeds of 
kindness, for the harvest is always plentiful. And 
the wizard's word to little folk is "Look well, 
choose well, use well; so shalt thou please G-od, 
and so shalt thou be great V 



XLII 
PLAYING THE GAME 

TWO men were toiling over some rough ground. 
It was full of lumps and hollows and the men 
seemed rather hot and tired. Each had a bag of 
sticks slung over his shoulders. These they would 
occasionally lay down and then, taking them up 
again, proceed on their way. 

Now this sounds as though they were wood- 
pickers, gathering firewood for winter, or anxious 
to get something to sell, but we saw that really 
they were playing a game, and getting a good deal 
of fun out of it too. They were using the sticks 
or clubs to strike two little white balls, and while 
other children might need to have it explained, 
you are clever enough to know that these men 
were playing Golf. 

We are just as keen as they were on playing 
the game, and so we must first remind ourselves 
that in the game of life, there are rules that must 
be followed. What we call rules, might be better 
named the will of God for each one of us. And 
if we would be successful, and play the game as 
we ought, then we must learn to obey. What is 
that but doing what we know to be right? And 
what is doing right, but being good from day to 
day? No one likes to play with a boy who cheats, 

167 



168 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

or with a girl that does not play fairly, and every 
true soul, rendering cheerful obedience to God's 
loving will, finds that life is full of joy and glad- 
ness. So the first thing in the game of life is 
Goodness. 

Then we noticed that these men were playing 
from point to point, according to certain num- 
bers, for on a golf course, there are 18 holes or 
goals, to which the ball must be driven. You can- 
not go from No. 1 to No. 4, nor from No. 9 to 
No. 6. You must play right on in the order laid 
down, no matter how difficult it may be. The 
points are connected by a narrow path, worn 
smooth by the feet of the good players, and the 
nearer you can keep to the straight line, not only 
the better you play, but the more easy it will be 
to win. 

Whenever people turn aside from the straight 
line of conduct, they find themselves "in trouble' ' 
as the golfers would say. That means, there are 
long grass, furze bushes, or holes, into which the 
ball drops, and that means a good deal of effort 
to get it back on to the smooth places again. But 
if you keep to the fairway, then it is a lot easier 
to reach the mark for which you are playing. 

You know how an ostrich runs when it is being 
chased? It zig-zags from one side to another, 
and while it runs very swiftly, and covers a lot 
of ground, yet by riding in a straight line, the 
hunter can readily outstrip it. And in playing 
the game of life, as well as Golf, the nearer you 
can keep to the line of right, the better will you 
succeed. So we lay down our second rule: 
Rectitude. 



PLAYING THE GAME 169 

While these two men were playing, one made 
a tremendous blow at the ball, but while his club 
swung round, the ball remained just where it was. 
" Keep your eye on the ball!" cried his friend. 
And that means a good deal. If you want to hit 
the ball, you must keep your eye fastened on it 
as it lies on the ground. And if you want to find 
it after you have struck it, you must watch it as 
it flies through the air and then falls into the 
grass. Otherwise, it means loss of time, some- 
times loss of temper, and a lost ball too. 

There are other things you must also look 
after : The way in which you stand, the way you 
wield the club, the direction of the flag that marks 
the hole for which you are playing; and as you 
remember, the Bible says that we are to run the 
race or play the game of life, "Looking unto 
Jesus/ ' for He is our Example and our Goal. So 
let us add Faith. 

All this means practice. Nothing worth doing 
can be done without effort and continued prac- 
tice. A great pianist once said that, although he 
could play well, if he did not practise constantly, 
he would lose his skill. "If I did not play for a 
whole day I would know it ; if I left the piano alone 
for two days, the critics would know it; and if 
I left it for three days, the public who listen to 
me would know that I had not been keeping up my 
work ! ' 7 

What is true of music, is true of trying to be 
kind, striving to follow our Lord's example, or 
of doing right. The game of life will suffer. So 
another rule for success is: Look how you are 
playing, and keep your eye on the ball. 



170 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

Then of course, we must "Play the game." 
That means, we must be absolutely fair. There 
are some people who put fun before fairness, and 
think that some of the rules can be ignored. But 
in the game of Golf, although there are any num- 
ber of sandy holes, called bunkers, and obstacles 
that make playing more difficult, it is the player 
who takes things as they come, and never tries 
to skip any difficulty who not only gets most fun 
out of the game, but who also increases his skill. 

We all have to face obstacles and difficulties. 
Lessons are not always easy to learn, temptations 
are hard to overcome, but when we set ourselves 
to vanquish them, we can come out victorious. 
When the Pilgrim in Bunyan's famous story came 
to the Hill Difficulty, he found that there were 
three paths. One skirted the hill on one side, 
the other went round the other way, but the third 
ran right up over the hill-top. So Christian took 
a drink from the cool stream by the foot, and thus 
refreshed, he started to climb. To his surprise, 
he found that the hill was not nearly so steep 
as it looked, for many others had gone that way 
before, and made the path quite easy to follow. 
And before he realised what he had done, he stood 
at the top, and the obstacle that had seemed to be 
more than he could conquer, lay beneath his feet. 
He had kep # t to the right way. He had followed 
the path of the pilgrim, and so we must put Per- 
severance as our last rule. 

Now look what we have : as our guide for play- 
ing the game : 

Goodness — Obeying the laws of God. 
Rectitude— Keeping to the right way. 



PLAYING THE GAME 171 

Faith — Taking care what we do and how we do it. 
Perseverance — Not only doing our best, but being our 
best. 

Do the right, do your duty, even when it is 
hard, and you will find in this the gladness of 
Playing the Game! And even though you may 
not get a medal for your play, you will one day 
have the Saviour's "Well Done!" and that is 
worth everything. 



XLIII 
WHY THE LEAVES FALL 

THE pilgrim stood ready for the journey. He 
had his wallet and staff. His feet were well- 
shod. And as he waited by the wicket-gate, he 
looked down the trail rather impatient that his 
guide should be so long in coming. You see, he 
was young and strong, and knowing a good deal 
he felt that it was almost a waste of time to wait 
as his father had bidden him. 

Presently, he saw a man approaching. He was 
clad in a bright green suit, and as he got near 
he called out to the youth, "Waiting for me?" 

"If you are the guide, I am/' replied the youth. 
"I thought you were never coming !" 

At that, the other laughed pleasantly. "That's 
quite all right! I'm generally a bit late. They 
call me Spring." 

"And where are we going?" asked the youth. 

"A great way, and a straight way, but the end 
is the palace of the king ! I can go with you only 
part of the way, however, and then I must hand 
you over to one of my brothers." 

They set off, and as they went, it seemed as 
though the world was brighter than it had ever 
been. The lambs were frolicking in the meadows. 
The trees put on their best clothes and waved 

172 



WHY THE LEAVES FALL 173 

their branches gaily as the pair passed, and the 
tall reeds by the river gracefully bowed their 
heads as though in homage. 

"They all seem to know you," the pilgrim re- 
marked. 

"Of course they do. I forgot to mention the 
fact, but I happen to be their prince. ' ' 

So they journeyed on for a time. Then the 
prince suddenly stopped. "I must leave you 
here," he said. "This is as far as my kingdom 
goes, and I must let my brother take you across 
the frontier." And even as he spoke, another 
prince approached, coming out of the wood. 

He was more handsome than the first, for he 
had golden curls that danced in the light, and his 
robes were a soft, shimmering green. 

"Let me introduce you," said the first prince. 
"This is the pilgrim youth who journeys far." 
And turning to the other he added, "And this is 
my brother, the Prince of Summerland. ' ' 

The youth bade his guide farewell, and started 
on the second stage of his travels. 

"Where are we going?" he asked of his new 
friend. 

And the prince said, just as the first had done, 
"A great way, and a straight way, but the end 
is the palace of the king. ' ' 

They toiled on, and now the sun was very hot 
so that the pilgrim found that even the small 
bundle he carried was getting heavier and 
heavier. The sun's rays smote his head and 
scorched his back, till he was glad to lean against 
a rock and rest awhile. 

The prince spoke to the leaves, and spreading 



174 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

themselves out as much as they could, they af- 
forded more shelter for the travellers so that they 
could take their way again. But the path, though 
it lay through the woods, was now getting steeper 
and steeper, stonier and stonier. So the pilgrim 
said to his guide, "It is verily a great way, and a 
straight way. . . ." 

"Yes," added the other quickly, "but the end 
is the palace of the king!" 

"But I am getting weary," said the youth. "I 
fear that I must be getting old ! And look at my 
sandals!" 

He pointed to the stout sandals with which he 
had commenced the journey. They were worn 
and cut with the sharp stones, while one foot was 
badly scraped above the ankle. 

"Cheer up!" the prince said. "We shall soon 
meet my brother who is going with you for the 
next part of the way. Perhaps he can suggest 
something about your sandals. He is older than 
I, and he is as wise as he is good, and that is 
saying a lot!" 

"Will he be here soon?" The pilgrim seemed 
better at asking questions than at travelling. 

"Why, here he comes!" was the answer. 

There stood a fine-looking man clad in a mantle 
of golden brown, and his face was as merry as 
the sun. "Well, you have come then!" he called 
out. "I have been waiting for you. And is this 
the traveller? But I understood he was quite 
young!" 

"I was when I started," replied the youth, "but 
your brothers spake truly that it is a great way. 
Just look at my sandals!" 



WHY THE LEAVES FALL 175 

"Oh, that is all right! The way is ever so 
much better farther along, and we must see what 
we can do." 

Away they went, but the traveller looked for 
the other prince only to find that he had slipped 
away. 

" Where is my brother?" echoed the newcomer. 
1 l Oh, Summer is always like that. You never know 
when you have him. He's quite a good fellow, 
but he slips off before you know." 

"I'm afraid I cannot go any farther," the pil- 
grim remarked after a time. "I was hot before, 
but my teeth are beginning to chatter now with 
the cold wind. I'm really so co-co-cold! And my 
feet are sore!" 

Be was quite right. They had been mounting 
all the time, till now they were on the high slopes 
of a hill, where the winds cut through one like a 
knife. 

The young man looked so sorry for himself that 
the heart of the prince was moved, and he said, 
"Wait a minute! I think I can do something!" 
So he spoke to the trees, and they cast their golden 
leaves till the stony track was covered with a 
soft, thick carpet. And what is more, through the 
bare branches, the sun now shone quite warmly, 
so that the cold winds lost their sting. 

' ' Now we can get along, ' ' the prince said. 

' i I can manage this $ne, ' ' the pilgrim cried with 
delight. "The path is quite soft now. Was that 
your own idea?" 

"Oh, quite," he replied. "I have often been 
along here with travellers, and by the time they 
get this far after being with my brother, Summer, 



176 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

they generally feel like you did — as though they 
could not go another step. And so the Good 
Father sends me to cheer and help them in any 
way I can. I suppose that you have found this 
out by now, that for every stage of the journey 
of life, there is some special help ,and blessing. 
And when the way is rough and the wind blows 
cold, Autumn always carpets the path with leaves 
to make it softer for weary feet, and helps the sun 
to brighten the way. • . . Look there !" 

The traveller did as the prince bade him, and 
lo! the road that stretched out before him was 
turned to gold as the sun touched the fallen leaves. 

1 i At the end of this track, just by that ivy-clad 
tree, my brother — there are four of us altogether 
■ — will take you the rest of the way. He will be 
here soon, and you will easily know him, for 
I cannot wait. He will be dressed in white. His 
name is Prince Winter. But though it is a great 
way, and a straight way, the end is the palace of 
the king! Now, I think I must go. Good-bye." 

The pilgrim trudged on, thinking how the good 
hand of God had blessed him every step of the 
way. And that is why, from that time ever since, 
Autumn carpets the way with its golden leaves, 
and the sun makes the track shine that the heart 
of the traveller may be glad. 

"It's a great way, and a straight way, but the 
end is the palace of the king ! ' 9 



XLIV 
CHKYSANTHEMUMS 

ONCE upon a time, ages and ages ago, the 
sprites had finished their work and they re- 
turned to Wonderland. They had been busy from 
the beginning of Spring, tending the flowers that 
gladdened the earth. Now that winter was at 
hand, they felt they deserved a rest. One of 
the sprites, however, was very sad. She loved the 
flowers, and she knew how dark and bare the 
earth would jlook without them. She loved the peo- 
ple too, and felt that they would miss the blooms 
she had secretly tended. Yet, was it any use being 
sorry? What could she do? 

It is very little use just saying we are sorry for 
people unless we try to do something to help 
them. So the sprite formed a little plan. 

During the summer days, she had become 
acquainted with a very old man, who loved every 
flower in his garden. He would totter out with 
the aid of his stick, and pointing to the beds, he 
would say to himself, "They seem to remind us 
about God, these flowers. I dread the days when 
they are all over." 

It was really this old man of whom the fairy 
was thinking most. "He may think that God has 
forgotten him," she said. "I must do some- 
thing I" 

177 



178 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

Ton know that in far-off Wonderland, glorious 
fragrant flowers bloom all the year round. There 
is neither autumn nor winter there. So one night, 
the sprite took a number of plants and slipping 
swiftly down a moonbeam, she came to earth. 
Then she sped to the old man's garden, and there 
in secret, she planted the new kind of flower in 
the beds. 

The beds were damp! No wonder the flowers 
shivered. The wind was blowing too, and it ruffled 
all their petals till they looked as shaggy as a boy 
who has forgotten to use the comb. But when at 
last the sun got up and about, he smiled on their 
pale, frightened faces, and the flowers turned to 
a golden bronze. 

"When grandfather came down to breakfast, he 
went to his cottage door to look at the weather as 
he usually did, but he could hardly believe his eyes 
as he caught sight of the strange blooms in his 
garden. 

"Well, I never! Flowers again! Why, they 
are not only the colour of gold, but just as pre- 
cious ! ' 9 

The old gentleman was almost beside himself 
with joy. He did not want any breakfast. And 
when a neighbour passed on his way to work, he 
called out to him to come and look ! 

1 ' Hello ! ' ' said the man. ' ' I thought the flowers 
were over. What do you call these? I've never 
seen anything like them before." 

"I don't know their name, but I'll tell you what 
I've christened them — the golden flower! Have 
some ? ' ' And as he cut a few for his friend, the 
old man went on, "I should think the fairies must 



CHRYSANTHEMUMS 179 

have brought them in the night! Isn't God good 
to us!" 

Strangely enough, that is just what the neigh- 
bour was thinking, and later in the day, when he 
saw the Chrysanthemums on his desk, he could 
not help saying, "Golden flowers! You make me 
think of God!" 

This must have been the way those flowers got 
their name, for there are two Greek words — one 
is chrusos, which means, golden; and the other 
is anthos, a flower. From these two words we get 
the name, Chrysanthemum, the golden flowers 
that brighten the wintry world. 

The -flowers of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, 
long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- 
ness, self-control. Any in the garden of your 
heart? 



XLV 
THE GOOD SHEPHEBD 

AWAY in the highlands of Scotland, lived old 
Tammas the shepherd. He was quite a 
prosperous farmer, though you would never have 
guessed it from his tiny cottage nor from the 
rough homespun he wore. Having quite a large 
number of sheep and not being as young as he 
used to be, he had a shepherd to help him to look 
after them, but this was one of those unpleasant 
men who make a trouble of everything, and the 
master and he often had words about it. 

Well, the man came to the cottage one night 
after driving the sheep back to the fold. The 
flocks are usually able to take care of themselves 
and except at shearing-time or when the winter 
snows come, they wander about at their own sweet 
will. But there was a storm brewing, and the 
sheep had been brought down — all except one. 
It was missing. The man could not tell Tammas 
where it was or which it was : he rather thought 
it was the sickly one with the black face. 

Old Tarn was like the Eastern shepherds in 
this : he loved his sheep, not simply because they 
were worth a lot of money to him, but because 
they were his own. So he told his man that he 
must go off and look for it. 

The man went just as some children go when 

180 



THE GOOD SHEPHERD 181 

they have something to do which they dislike. He 
scowled and he grumbled (not that you are ever 
like that!), then he trudged up the hillside again 
in search of the lost. 

He was soon back. No! he had not found the 
sheep. The fact was, his supper was ready, and 
he knew that even though he were to spend an 
hour looking for the sheep, he would not be paid 
anything more at the end of the week, and he 
thought more of that than anything else. 

"It's nae use. The clouds are coming up, and 
it looks like a bad night, " he said, and leaving 
Tammas as angry as could be, he went home. 

There was no doubt about it : the old shepherd 
was put out. He did not like to think of a sick 
sheep on the hillside all night if, as it looked, 
there was going to be a snowstorm. 

"If Jock were only here. . . . He 'd have stayed 
out half the night before he'd have given up." 

But Jock was not there. 

That made Tammas sadder still, for Jock was 
his only son. He had been a foolish lad. He had 
done something very wrong, and running away 
from home, nothing, had been heard of him for 
months. 

The old man went in and sat by the fire, think- 
ing all the time about the sheep, yet telling him- 
self that perhaps it would be all right. Should 
he take his dog and range the hills till he found 
it? 

But his rheumatism was bad, and ... As he 
looked up, he saw the snow was beginning to fall 
thickly. Great flakes were swirling against the 
windows while the wind was howling like some 



182 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

horrid witch. It was going to be an awful night ! 

There was nothing to do now. Even if his wife 
were sure, as she said she was, that the sheep 
would get cover somewhere, there was the chance 
Tarn might slip over a precipice in the storm 
should he venture out. 

Before he went to bed that night, Tammas took 
down the big old Bible as he always did, and by a 
strange chance, it opened just at his favourite 
chapter. You know the one; it is where it tells 
about the Good Shepherd who went forth seeking 
the lost sheep. So it was little wonder that when 
the old man lay down, he could not sleep thinking 
about what the other Shepherd had done and he 
had not ! 

It is always best to do what we think right 
straight away. Tammas felt that, and at last he 
could lie there no longer. Getting dressed, he 
crept downstairs, and calling his dog, they set out. 

The storm seemed to have abated a little, though 
the snow pelted his face and almost blinded him, 
while the wind seemed bent on pushing him back. 
As he battled on, he could not help wondering 
what his neighbours would think if they knew 
that he had left his snug bed just for the sake of 
a poor sickly sheep. "They'd say I was clean 
daft," he muttered to himself, for it is quite cer- 
tain that, unless they had been reading the same 
story, they could never understand how he felt. 

The dog was scouring the hill a little way ahead 
as though he knew exactly what they had left the 
warm house for, and the shepherd was calling to 
him from time to time so that they should not 
lose one another in the storm. 



THE GOOD SHEPHERD 183 

"What was that?" The old man listened for 
a moment, holding his plaid tightly about him. 
" No ! it 's only the wind. Must be mistaken. ' ' 

Tammas shouted again. 

Yes! There it was. There was no mistaking 
that. Someone up there was answering, and 
calling for help ! 

The old man needed no urging. The snow had 
ceased now, and a glint of the moon showing 
through the scurrying clouds enabled him to 
strike where he thought the track ought to be. 

Soon he came to a hollow in the shoulder of the 
hill, and there was a dark something huddled 
against the rock. 

"Hi, there! Who is it?" 

The glad bleat of a sheep answered him, and 
then a man's voice said, "Father!" 

"Why, it's Jock ! Jock, ma ain laddie, what are 
ye doing here ? Sakes but the lad 's wet through ! ' ' 

6 ' I was coming home, father. Will you forgive ? 
I had to take the track over the hills, and just 
as the storm broke, I slipped, and my ankle's 
sprained. I managed to crawl to the shelter of 
this rock, and I was hoping that somebody might 
come along in the morning. Here's one of our 
sheep. She knew the call, and she's helped to 
keep me from freezing. Was she straying?" 

Day was nearly breaking when the three at 
last reached the cottage, and a strange picture 
they made. There was the shepherd, with a 
bedraggled youth leaning on his arm as he hobbled 
painfully along, while the sheep followed slowly, 
stopping now and then to look for a tuft of grass 



184 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

yet always keeping near. But there was no one 
to see, only the angels and God. 

The dog had run back to the cottage. He had 
barked so loudly and so long that the old wife 
had come down to see what was the matter, and 
when the little party got to the door, there was 
such a welcome ! 

The boy was back again. And as they sat be- 
fore the fire, the old father was saying, "How did 
I come to look for you, ma lad? But I didn't. 
It was for the sheep. ... I was reading the 
nicht aboot the Gruid Shepherd — you ken fine what 
I mean. And there was this one that Rob had left 
up there, so I had to go. And I found you ! But 
I'd rather have found you than a hundred!" 



XLVI 
THE POET AND THE POTTER 

A STRANGE old poet of Persia, when out 
for a walk one evening, called at the potter's 
workshop. The potter had just gone out, and so 
the poet decided to wait there till he returned. 
The place was deserted, and the poet was sur- 
prised to hear voices. He looked, and there, sure 
enough, he discovered who it was. 

Along the shelves round the shop, stood a num- 
ber of half -finished vessels, of all shapes and sizes, 
and they were chattering away to one another in 
subdued tones: 

"I think it is monstrous that I should be made 
like this," said one. "A common water-jar! 
Why, at least I should have been something orna- 
mental. ' ' 

"And you would have been an ornament to any 
house," chimed in another, "for we are both of 
the same play. True, I am only a vase and that 
does not quite jar one's nerves as you feel it, 
but why didn't he do something worth while?" 
He thought this rather a clever speech, but no one 
noticed the point. 

Several others joined in, lamenting that they 
were not more slender and graceful, or that they 
were so plain, when one huge vessel, evidently 
very angry, exclaimed: 

185 



186 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Who is the potter, pray, and who the pot?" 

Now the poet was beginning to feel rather out 
of place, but not knowing whether he was ex- 
pected to answer the question or not, he very 
wisely resolved not to say anything, which made 
the vessels decide he must be an extremely clever 
fellow. But the question set him thinking. He 
too, was like clay in the hands of the potter, and 
many a time he had wondered why he was being 
so shaped and what the purpose of it all could be. 

We are the same. Each of us is as clay in the 
hand of the potter, and if you were to watch a 
potter at work, you would see that he has a great 
many things to say to us. That cup and saucer 
you used at breakfast, the plates on the table, e 
have all come through the hands of the potter, and 
they were shaped by his touch. At first, there 
was only a ball of wet clay, spongy and soft like 
dough. He would put this on a circular table, 
driven by belting and revolving very rapidly, and 
soon, instead of the shapeless mass, the clay would 
rise up as though it were some magic tree, sprout- 
ing in the sun. If it were the cup, you would see 
him place his hands in the centre and hollow it 
out ; then in a very short time, there was the cup, 
in its first stage. It had no handle, but it was 
passed over to another man, who took a tiny piece 
of clay, rolled it out on his board just like you 
might do with Plasticine, and having made a 
kind of worm with it, he cut off a short piece and 
stuck it on the side, just where the handle is seen. 

Then the cup was put with a lot of other cups, 
all the same size and shape to dry, ready for the 
next stage, which is baking. They are then put 



THE POET AND THE POTTER 187 

into a huge oven like a lot of pies, and for forty 
hours they have quite a warm time of it. Then 
they are left to cool for two days, and the next 
step is ready for them. This is the glazing. If 
they were not finished with glaze, they would still 
be porous, and the tea would ooze out, so they are 
dipped into pans of liquid glaze, and then they are 
baked again. 

But cups are not very pretty unless there is 
some design on them — flowers or lines — so they 
go then to be painted, either by hand or to have 
transfers put on them. Perhaps there is also to 
be some gold, so this too must be added. And then 
they go to be baked for the third time. When 
they come out of the oven now, the gold will look 
quite dark and dull, so it is burnished. Then the 
gilt work shines brightly, just like real gold, and 
when the cups stand on the breakfast table, they 
reflect the light of the sun splendidly. Eighteen 
different things are done to the china before it has 
finished its journey from the rough material to 
the perfect cup. 

We are clay in the hands of our Heavenly Pot- 
ter, and we must see to it that we are responsive 
to His touch so that we may be a vessel meet for 
the Master's use. For while there are vessels for 
all purposes, and of all shapes and sizes, yet if 
we let Him do His will in us, we shall all be fit for 
His service, and do something for Him. Of course, 
in part, we can help to make our lives what He 
wants them to be, for in the habits we form, the 
kind actions we do, we are shaping our char- 
acter. And so that the rough clay may be beauti- 
ful to look upon, adorned with lovely lines or 



188 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

figures, there must be the painting of the Heaven- 
ly Artist upon them, as well as the glaze — the 
polish of good temper and good manners. 

The lost art of porcelain enamel was redis- 
covered by Bernard Palissy, a famous French 
potter of the fifteenth century. He worked so long 
trying to find the secret that his family was re- 
duced to poverty, and even his furniture had been 
burned to keep the fires going. At last, when he 
discovered the ingredients that formed the com- 
bination, he found he still wanted a piece of gold 
to complete it, and it was only when his wife, 
remembering her wedding-ring gave that in love 
for her husband and his work, that success was 
assured. 

It costs a good deal to be all Christ wants us 
to be, but He pays the greater part of the price. 
He has made it possible for us to become like Him, 
and when our lives are at last complete under 
His hand, then there will be the gold of good hu- 
mour, of kindness and love, and the beauty of 
holiness shining in the character, so that we shall 
grace the board of the Heavenly King. 

We must try every day to be what our Lord 
wants. And though we may have but the humble 
service of being the cup that offers a draught of 
cool water to the thirsty soul, our life shall not 
be in vain. 



XLVII 
EOBIN REDBREAST 

DO you know how the robins got their name? 
What! you don't? Well, how did they come 
to have red breasts? 

Once upon a time, long before there were rail- 
ways, there was a traveller whose way ran among 
the lonely mountains, and having heard that there 
were robbers lurking there — at least, the people 
of the village he reached late one night said so — 
he was not eager to go any farther alone. So he 
decided to wait for a few days, until perhaps, some 
other travellers might come along who were going 
the same way. Then they could form a party and 
find safety in numbers. 

He waited for a week, but no one came, and so 
he determined to set off alone, first thing next 
morning. But as he was packing his valise that 
night, another man came to the little inn, and to 
the traveller's delight, he found that the other 
was going to the same place. 

He explained how he had been waiting because 
of the brigands, and added, "So, if you are agree- 
able, I will join you to-morrow, and we can set off 
early. We ought to reach the next village before 
dark." 

This was agreed. The inn-keeper called the two 
men as soon as it was daylight, and with their 

189 



190 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

bundles, and a stout staff each, they started on 
the rest of their journey. 

The newcomer was quite a jolly man. He had* 
travelled far, and he had so many interesting 
things to talk about, that the journey did not seem 
a bit long. Good-humour and cheerfulness always 
make things a lot easier for everybody. And by 
noon, the two men had reached the pass. 

"I don't think there are any brigands about 
here," said one. "I have not noticed a living 
thing except those few goats, and the birds, have 
you?" 

"No!" replied the other. "Perhaps it was 
mere idle talk. It may have been a trick to keep 
travellers longer at the inn than they would other- 
wise have stayed. What do you say to a bit of 
lunch now?" 

"Good! I'm ready for mine. The sharp air 
of these mountains does make one hungry." 

They selected a spot against some rocks where 
they sat down, and unstrapping their bundles, 
they ate their lunch. 

"Shall we rest for a little while?" 

"Well, I think we ought to get on. We must 
be over the mountain before dark, you know." 

"Oh, a few minutes longer will not matter. 
Let's just take the chance while we can. Be- 
sides, we shall get along all the faster after- 
wards." 

Strange to say, they both fell fast asleep; so 
fast, indeed, that they did not hear the warning 
voice of a flock of birds that had been hovering 
round, and that had then come down to pick up 
the crumbs. 



ROBIN REDBREAST 191 

The birds had seen something, and to show 
their gratitude for a splendid lunch, they called 
their loudest, chirp, chirp, chirp — hoping to wake 
the two men before it was too late. 

Quietly, stealthily, the brigands came down 
from their hiding-place. They had been watching 
the travellers and this was the chance they were 
waiting for. They fell upon the men with clubs 
and sticks, and snatching up their valuables, they 
left their victims senseless on the ground. 

"What can we do?" chirped one of the birds, 
for the whole flock had returned the moment the 
robbers left. "We cannot leave them to die." 

"We cannot do anything," answered another, 
"unless some of us fly to the village and bring 
help. But those grown-ups would never under- 
stand even if we told them. ' J 

"That won't do," chimed in a third. "Yet, 
when they gave us those crumbs, we ought to do 
something. 1 11 tell you what ! I Ve got an idea. 
We cannot bind up their wounds, but we might 
be able to stop them bleeding. Let us gather 
leaves as fast as we can, and we will lay them on 
their wounds." 

Off the birds flew as hard as they could. Each 
one seized a leaf in his beak, and flying back again, 
they laid them carefully on the wounds of the 
stricken men. 

It looked as though this was going to do some 
good, for after a time one of the men opened his 
eyes, and although he was very weak, he was able 
to tear his neckcloth into strips and bandage the 
places where the robbers had hurt him. Then 



192 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

after awhile, he was doing the same thing for his 
friend and their lives were saved. 

The birds, seeing they could not do any more, 
flew back home, but they were in a terrible state. 
All the front of their breasts were marked with 
red stains, and at once a black crow went to re- 
port the matter to the king of the birds. 

The culprits, looking very much ashamed, were 
led into the presence of the golden eagle. He was 
very angry to see some of his subjects in such a 
disgraceful condition, and he said, "This matter 
is most grave! Unless you can explain satisfac- 
torily what you have been doing, you shall all be 
banished from our court for all time. Now 
speak ! ' ' 

The robins hung their heads. 

"Am I to understand that you have nothing to 
say!" 

Then up spoke the bird who had suggested 
bringing the leaves, and in a few words, he told 
how they had tried to help the travellers in the 
mountain pass, and how, in doing that, the red 
stains had got upon their feathers. "And may it 
please your majesty," he concluded, "we have 
done our best to make ourselves clean, but the 
marks will not come out." 

The eagle looked a little more pleased, but one 
of the old counsellors said, "But, your majesty, 
that is surely not all. These robins are guilty of 
treason!" 

"Treason! Treason!" echoed the other birds, 
although they did not know exactly what the other 
meant. 

"These interfering fellows," went on the old 



ROBIN REDBREAST 193 

bird, "have forgotten that men are our enemies. 
Do not cruel boys climb the trees and rob our 
nests ? Do not men snare some of our brethren, 
and kill them? Yet, on their own confession, these 
fellows have saved the lives of two of our bitter- 
est foes. Banish them ! Let them be outcast from 
the sacred brotherhood of the birds ! ' ' 

There was a good deal of twittering at this. 
Some thought that the old counsellor was far too 
severe, while others said that, at any rate, what 
he said about boys was true enough. 

The king waved his sceptre, and a dead silence 
fell on the court. 

"All that our learned friend has said is true, 
but it seems to me that, although the robins have 
done what none of us would have done, they have 
done what our Creator would wish. His Son says, 
'Love your enemies/ and the robins have shown 
that though men are sometimes very cruel to us, 
yet we can return good for evil. 

"The sentence of the court is, that they shall 
wear this red mark upon their breasts from this 
time forth, and their children after them. But 
it is not a mark of shame, but one of the highest 
honour. They did a noble and kindly deed, though 
at the cost of their appearance, and I decree that 
this red mark of unselfish service shall be hon- 
oured by us all, for it shall serve to remind us 
that we too ought to help others when we can!" 

There were chirping cheers as the king finished 
speaking, and so to this day these birds are called 
Robin Redbreast. They bear the badge of honour 
that belongs to those who do their best to be help- 
ful, kind, and true. 



XLvin 

THE LEAGUE OF LIGHT-GIVEBS 

WHY don't you lamps become friends ?" 
asked the policeman one night, address- 
ing a tall electric lamp that shed his beams on the 
pavement. "What I can see of it, you are all 
doing the same kind of work although in different 
ways. Why be so savage with one another ?" 

The constable did not know it, but he had 
really touched on a very delicate matter, for the 
lamps were anything but friendly with one an- 
other. It may have been because they did not 
know each other well. You see, there were so 
many of them, and they lived in such scattered 
districts. 

Some were in people's houses, and others on 
lonely headlands round the coast, guiding the 
sailors with the warning beam of the lighthouse. 
Some had their place in great factories where the 
machinery ran all through the night, or in hos- 
pitals where sick people lay; while perhaps the 
least fortunate of all were those who had to stand 
in all weathers in the dark, draughty streets. No 
wonder they were sometimes weary of their work, 
for they were always standing in the same place. 
And it is not surprising to hear people sometimes 
talking about being as stiff as a lamp-post ! 

Perhaps it was because of their long hours and 

194 



THE LEAGUE OF LIGHT-GIVERS 195 

the fact that they were awake all night that made 
them a trifle cross. Haven't yon noticed that 
little people who do not go to bed in good time are 
sometimes a bit peevish and ill-tempered? 

The lamps in the side streets thought the great 
electric lights were far too proud, and inclined to 
look down on everyone. The oil-lamps disliked 
the gas because it gave such a good light and put 
them in the shade, and as for the candles — well, no 
one had a good word to say for them. They were 
always what the boys call "Waxy, and very 
easily put out ! 

That being the case, you will understand that 
they could not be either very happy or good 
friends when they were always finding fault with 
one another. But the policeman's remarks were 
passed on, and they set everyone thinking. 

" After all," said some of the lights, "why 
shouldn't we be on good terms with one another 
when we are all fighting the common foe, Dark- 
ness?" 

So a meeting was called. The thing was talked 
over for a long time, and then it was decided to 
form a League of Light-givers. 

The Electrics forgot their up-to-date splendour. 
The Gas put aside its dislike for the rather smelly 
Oil-lamps. And being now formed into a brother- 
hood of brightness, they determined to put all 
gloomy thoughts away for ever. 

Everyone seemed delighted until a motor-head- 
light, who had travelled the country a good deal 
and was known to be an exceedingly bright fellow, 
remarked, "We seem of one mind about this 
League. I am glad to see that our friends, the 



196 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

Electrics, have joined hands with the Gas, and 
I am more than pleased that our old comrades, the 
Oil-lamps, have promised not to smoke any more 
than they can help in order that the comfort of 
everyone may not be interfered with, but haven't 
we forgotten something? What about the 
Candles ?" 

"Oh, you don't expect us to mix with common 
candles, do you?" asked a gas-lamp. He had put 
off his incandescent mantle on account of the heat, 
and he now flamed up in a bit of temper, for he 
was not quite himself. "They are not admitted 
to decent society. Why, in the house where I live, 
they simply would not think of using candles. We 
can't have them in the League." 

"Rather not!" chimed in an oil-lamp. "They 
are very old-fashioned and horribly poor. If 
they are joining, then I'm not!" 

At that moment, one of the tall electric stand- 
ards who held an important position in the city, 
spluttered and jumped. The others looked anx- 
iously at him, thinking that possibly he had been 
taken ill, but he quickly recovered himself and 
said, somewhat jerkily, "But why keep out the 
candles?" 

"Because . . ." began the oil-lamp who had 
last spoken. 

"Because they are old and poor? That is no 
reason. Are they not light-givers just as much as 
we? I could tell you something that I saw last 
week — I wonder if I should. ' ' 

The other lights brightened up. This sounded 
interesting, for this great fellow was known to be 
both brilliant and wise. 



THE LEAGUE OF LIGHT-GIVERS 197 

' ' Shall I?" asked the arc-lamp. 

"Yes! Goon!" 

"Well, a few nights ago, I was not feeling quite 
up to the mark — congestion of the carbon or 
something. . . ." 

"Perhaps the currents disagreed with you," 
cried the Gas with a laugh. 

"Look here! Who is telling this story?" re- 
torted the Electric good-humouredly. "You are 
meant to be seen, not heard." 

"All right ! No offence. I was trying to get at 
the ' raisin* of your illness." 

"What I was saying was, I felt a strange kind 
of choking, and after an attack of jumps, out went 
my light. Well, I never think it is any use mak- 
ing a fuss when things go wrong. I just take them 
as they come and make the best of them. Of 
course, I could not do anything till my man came 
round in the morning, and as I wasn 't a bit sleepy 
— being used to staying up all night, you know — I 
had time to look around. 

"Now, there's an old lady who lives in a big 
house right opposite to where I stand. The house 
isn't hers. She has only one room. I happen to 
know that she is very poor, and if it were not for 
the little girl who brings a basket of good things 
now and then, I'm afraid she would lack many a 
comfort. Now I usually give her enough light 
for her to see her way about, but this night, of 
course, it was dark. Her cough was very trouble- 
some. I could hear it even from where I stood. 
So she had to light her one candle. 

"Poor little chap! It wasn't very much he 
could do, but he did his best, and I was glad he 



198 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

did. I could see that the dear old lady was very 
ill. And so, all through the night, he was burning 
so that she would not be in the dark ! 

" Do you know, I felt quite proud of that candle ! 
If he had thought only of himself, he would have 
gone on strike. But he didn't; it is only matches 
that strike ! He just gave his life to brighten hers, 
for instead of lasting several nights he was used 
up all in one. 

" Don't you think that was a noble thing to 
do?" asked the Arc-lamp looking round at the 
others. " Isn't it fine to see such unselfishness? 
I would not have believed that anything so small 
could have done so much. Ought we to keep the 
candles out after that?" 

With one voice the gas and the oil-lamps agreed 
with their big friend that the candles should be 
enrolled in the League. And the gas added, "As 
they are older than any of us, let us give them the 
place of honour in our order. ' 9 

So the candles were made members of the 
League of Light-givers, and whether you are big 
or little, clever or not, you must "Let your light 
so shine before men that thejr may see your good 
works." 



XLIX 
LESSONS OF THE SNOW 

BAH! Snow again !" Mr. Hyam Evercross 
turned from the window of his breakfast- 
room to the fire he had left, and sat down again. 
He was cross. In fact, he was Evercross — that 
was his name and he lived up to it ! 

What was the matter with him? you ask. Noth- 
ing much. He wanted to go out that morning, that 
was all, and being quite strong and well, he could 
not help shivering when the snow came. Poor 
people who had only half the clothes that Hyam 
wore, and who never had half as much to eat, 
whose boots let the cold slush in — these could go 
out in the vilest of weather, and they could not 
possibly feel the cold as he did ! That is why he 
did not relish walking through the slushy streets. 

But you will ask now, "Why did he not call a 
cab if he didn't like walking in the snow?" 

Ah, that proves that you do not know Mr. Ever- 
cross. He was not poor. He could have hired 
half-a-dozen cabs if he liked. But the fact was, he 
had always to find something to grumble at, and 
the snow was something that did not often give 
him a chance. 

His man brought in the breakfast, and politely 
wished his master Good Morning ! But Hyam did 
not answer for he was not like you — you always 

199 



200 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

remember your manners, and you don't sulk when 
things are not to your liking! 

James retired from the room as quickly as he 
could, and he muttered to himself, "The wind's 
in the east again! We're in for another day of 
it!" Though I do not think he meant that the 
day was going to be windy so much as breezy ! 

Hyam did not eat anything. "Who wants break- 
fast a morning like this ? " he growled. ' ' How am 
I to get to the city?" And it did not improve his 
temper a bit when a boy hurled a snow-ball at him 
later, which sent his hat rolling along the street. 

I hope that you would never throw snow-balls 
at old gentlemen in the street, because it is not 
quite fair. It is not playing the game. But in 
this case, I am not very sorry for Hyam deserved 
a good deal more. 

Well, he got to the city all right, though he 
managed to make most people miserable who came 
within sound of his sharp tongue. And it was as 
much as the car conductor could do to keep from 
telling Hyam what he thought of him. 

That night, when the house was quiet and Hyam 
Evercross sat in the firelight to save the gas, a 
strange little elf blew into the room. He kept as 
far from the fire as he could, and he called across 
the room, "Well, sir! How now?" 

Hyam had to look twice before he could see any- 
one, then he growled, "Well? No, decidedly not! 
I am far from well after a day like this ! But who 
may you be?" 

"I am the Prince of the Snowflakes," was the 
reply. 

"Are you! Well, I wish you had kept them to 



LESSONS OF THE SNOW 201 

yourself instead of making such a mess of the 
streets.'' 

"Come, come, come," said the prince. "Why 
talk like that?" 

"I will do nothing of the kind," replied he. 
"Why should I come with you?" 

"Well, that is not quite what I meant when I 
said come, but still it is not a bad idea. Suppose 
you do come with me. I may be able to show you 
something you have never seen before." 

If there was anything that Mr. Evercross did 
not like it was to have to go out when once he had 
got back to the cosy fire, but there was no help 
for it. The little prince pulled at his dressing- 
gown, and soon they were floating through space 
as well as Peter Pan could do it ! 

"Where are we going?" asked Mr. Evercross, 
rather angrily. 

"To what is called the Black Country — where 
your old smoky chimneys have nearly spoiled the 
glory of God's beautiful earth," was the answer. 
"You will see what I have done there." 

Soon they came to it, and Hyam did open his 
eyes ! They were open before, of course, but now 
they were wider than ever! It was as though a 
magician had been at work for the whole country- 
side was changed. 

1 ' Well, do you like it ? " asked the prince. ' ' Not 
bad for one night's work, is it?" 

"I think it is wonderful," cried the man. "I 
never thought the snow could have made such a 
difference. Why, it used to be horrible looking 
out from the train. But, unhappily, it can't last. ' ' 

"But why do you say that? Surely it is better 



202 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

to have things looking beautiful even if it is only 
for a few hours than always to have them ugly* 
And why don't you try to make things a bit better 
in the world? You are always complaining about 
people and making the most of their bad points. 
Why don't you look for the best? And they are 
all the better for hearing a good word now and 
then, instead of being reminded of their faults." 

The man listened. No one had ever dared to 
speak like that to him before. Then he took out 
his notebook and wrote by the light of the moon. 
"Note: It is worth while making the best of 
things, no matter how ugly they may be!" 

They now went on to the open country. 

"Look at this field," said the prince. "Now 
listen! Can you hear anything?" 

" No, " replied Hyam. ' < What should I hear? ' 9 

"Well, last week I was passing this field, and 
I heard a lot of tiny voices crying out that it was 
cold there. What do you think it was?" 

"Not babies?" said the man, for the only thing 
that cried as far as he knew was a baby. 

The prince burst out laughing. i i No, no ! You 
are quite wrong. It was all the seeds the farmer 
had put into the ground, ready for next year's 
crops. So I just threw one of my white coverlets 
over them to keep them warm, and now there is 
not a sound. They are all fast asleep. " 

Out came the notebook again, and Hyam wrote, 
"Note: Snow makes the earth happy by giving 
it a warm covering." And he added to himself, 
"I must go round some of those poor houses near 
me and see if they have fires and plenty of bed- 
clothes as soon as I get home again." 



LESSONS OF THE SNOW 203 

Just then it started to snow again. At first 
there were only a few light flakes, but in a moment, 
great swirling masses were coming down. 

"I think I would like to get back home," said 
Mr. Evercross to the prince, "that is, unless you 
particularly want me to stay. You see, I have an 
idea that perhaps there may be some one not far 
from where I live I could help. I can't bear to 
think that they might not have any coal a night 
like this." 

The prince looked quite pleased. "You have 
learned some of the lessons of the snow, I think. 
Well, there is just one more I want you to get 
before we part. Would you mind counting the 
flakes V 9 

Hyam looked up, but though he tried his best, 
he saw it was impossible. 

"I'm afraid I can't, and yet I used to think I 
was good at figures ! These are too much for me. 
Do you particularly want to know how many there 
are?" 

"No!" replied the prince, "but I wanted you 
to try." 

"But why?" the man asked, more puzzled than 
ever. 

"Just for this reason: you have had much to 
complain about and I know that occasionally you 
get cross. Do you know why? It is because you 
have forgotten to count your blessings!" 

Mr. Evercross looked as though he wanted to 
say something, but could not find words, but the 
snow-clad prince did not seem to notice and he 
went on: 

"If you would only look up and try to count the 



204 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

many things you have to make you thankful to the 
Giver of good, you'd find that you could no more 
count them than you can count the falling flakes. 
Now we are back ! Remember the lessons of the 
snow, and the next time you feel like . . . ' ' 

The prince's voice seemed to die away in the 
distance as, with a violent start, Mr. Evercross 
woke up! 

" Bless me!" he said. "'Who would have 
thought it! Lessons of the snow — why, I never 
thought of them before. Where's that notebook 
of mine ? I mustn 't forget them ! ' ' 

It took him a minute or two, biting his pencil, 
before he could recall what the prince had said, 
but then he wrote : 

1. Always make the best of things. 

2. Try to make some one comfortable and happy. 

3. Count your blessings — that is, if yon can! 

"It is only 8 o'clock," he observed. "Why, 
James and I could take a few spare blankets round 
to-night." 

And as he pulled on his boots he was humming, 

"Count your blessings, name them one by one, 
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done." 

His name is no longer Hyam Evercross, but one 
that sounds very much better — Hyam Everglad. 



THE STRICKEN SOLDIEE 

ASOLDIEE stumbled along a lonely lane. He 
was wounded and ill, and as it was in the 
olden times, long before anyone thought of giving 
aid to those hurt in battle, his officer had given 
him leave to seek rest and help. 

The man had fastened a cloth about his head 
as well as he could and a strip of rag was wrapped 
round his hand, but he was feeling so weary and 
faint that he could hardly put one foot before 
the other. 

There was no one about, and not a house in 
sight, so that he did not know where he was going, 
but he felt that it was something if only he could 
leave the noise of the battlefield behind him. 

Now it so happened, that as he turned the cor- 
ner of the lane, he saw a little way off a fine old 
castle. It belonged to a nobleman of those parts, 
though he was anything but a noble man. The 
truth is, he had a very ugly temper, and he often 
did such wicked things when his temper got the 
better of him, that he was feared by all. 

Still, the soldier did not know that, which was 
just as well, and seeing the gardener brushing the 
path, the poor fellow called to him through the 
closed gate and said, "May I just come in and 

205 



206 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

rest awhile on that seat? I cannot go much 
farther. ' ' 

The gardener came down to the railings, bnt 
he did not open the gate, although he looked very 
sorry for the soldier. 

"I wish I could let you in, but I dare not! It 
would be as much as my place is worth. The mas- 
ter has given orders that no beggars. . . ." 

"But I am not a beggar, " said the wounded 
man. "You can see that I am from the wars. 
Look here !" pointing to his head, "I am wounded 
and have a fever as well. ' ' 

"Fm sorry, but it's no use. If you keep on for 
another mile, you will come to the village. Some- 
one is sure to give you help there. ' J 

The soldier smiled sadly as he said, "I cannot 
go another mile. But of course, if you cannot 
help me, then I must lie by the roadside. I am 
nearly spent." 

He hobbled away, but as the gardener turned 
back to his work, a lady came down the path lead- 
ing from the castle. She was dressed in most 
beautiful robes, but the tender look in her face 
was more beautiful still. 

' ' Who was that soldier ? p 9 she asked. ' i He looks 
ill. What did he want?" 

The gardener told his mistress all that had 
passed, but she said with scorn, "Afraid of losing 
your place ? Why, if it were not for such men as 
that, you would have no place to lose. Bring him 
back!" 

"But my lord gave me strict orders ..." 

"Bring him back at once ! I will see that a bed 
is prepared for him." 



THE STRICKEN SOLDIER 207 

So the wounded man was led to the castle, but 
as he crossed the terrace, some red drops fell from 
his wounds upon the white pavement. But only 
the gardener noticed them. 

The soldier was placed in the bed, and the lady 
came with water and healing spices to wash and 
dress his wounds. She bound up his head again, 
and as he laid it on the cool white pillow, she saw 
that he was settling to sleep just like a tired child. 
So she pulled the heavy curtains across the win- 
dow to darken the room and stole quietly away. 

Just as she reached the hall, her husband had 
come in. His face was flushed with anger, for he 
had seen the gardener busy trying to wash out 
the blood marks on the terrace; thus he learned 
everything. 

"What is the meaning of this?" he burst out. 
"Why have my orders been disobeyed? Who is 
this wretched fellow you have brought into my 
house? " 

' c Oh, my lord. It is a poor soldier who has been 
wounded. He was asking for a place to rest, and 
I could not see him turned away. I have dressed 
his hurt, and now he sleeps." 

"Does he! Then he shall soon wake up, mark 
my words! I'll have no lazy skulking fellows in 
my house. Tell me, woman, where is he?" 

"In the guest-room, my lord." 

She saw the look of anger in her husband's 
eyes, but her thought for the poor fellow upstairs 
made her brave. 

"Please let him stay. He has been fighting for 
our land. Leave him in peace, if you have any 
love for me!" 



208 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

But the nobleman did not stop to hear the rest 
of her words. He strode up to the room, the lady 
following. He tore back the curtains and turned 
to the bed, intent on clearing the soldier out bag 
and baggage, but his outstretched hand fell. He 
stood motionless. He was spellbound. 

Whether it was simply the brightness of the 
afternoon sun falling on the face of the sleeping 
man or not, I cannot say, but a glorious light 
shone about the head. Instead of the bandages 
there was a bright halo and a crown of thorns that 
gleamed with golden radiance, while upon the 
white coverlet lay the bandaged hand, a red stain 
showing, that must have reminded the lord of One 
whose hands were pierced with the nails of the 
cross. 

He beckoned to his lady and stole from the 
room, and as he closed the door behind him, he 
said in a strangely quiet voice, "You have done 
well. I have been blind, but now I see. We are 
indeed honoured in our guest. What was it my 
mother used to read to me when I was a boy? 
' Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of these, My brethren, ye have done it unto 
Me..' However did I forget that?" 



LI 

A STRANGE NOEL 

FAST fell the snow. It was Christmas eve and 
all through the day, the heavy flakes had been 
falling, till the streets were deep with cold slush 
or filled with high barriers where it had drifted. 

A poor woman had left her home in a drab part 
of Paris to go to the chapel where a service was 
always held on the night before Noel, for she 
wanted to ask the Good Father to help her chil- 
dren at this season. 

Her shawl was worn and thin, and the wind 
seemed to be taking a delight in dashing it aside 
and driving the snow into her face. It was cold ! 
And she shivered again as she thought of the little 
stock of fuel at home and the even smaller stock 
of food in the cupboard. 

She was generally very brave and bright, al- 
though her husband was away at the wars. But 
to-night, although Christmas was so near, she 
felt very sad. Perhaps it was because Christmas 
was near, for as she put her two little children to 
bed, she noticed that they had put their sabots 
in front of the grate. 

The French children look for Santa just as we 
do, but instead of filling their stockings, he puts 
something in their shoes. 

209 



210 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

"Mere," said the boy (that was his way of 
saying Mother), "do you think he will come or 
does he pass poor children ! ' ' 

"Ah, yes," she had replied, "I hope he will 
come like he used," and Jacques and his little 
sister went to bed, happy in their thoughts of a 
knife or a ball for the boy, a doll or a book for 
Marie. 

The mother thought of all this as she battled 
against the wind. Would the Good Father send 
something for them? She stopped for a moment 
for breath, and as she did so, she heard a moan. 
Looking about, she saw a little boy, sitting on 
some steps, but he was so white with the snow 
that she had not noticed him. Who was he ? Was 
he lost? 

The little chap could not answer her. He was 
faint for lack of food and blue with cold. What 
should she do ? Take him to the police who cared 
for lost children? But it was farther to get there 
than to take him back home to the humble dwelling 
she had left. 

She wrapped her shawl about the boy, and 
though he was heavy and the slush made walking 
difficult, at last, panting and weary, she got to her 
door. 

It was only when she got him inside and sat 
chafing his little feet before the fire that she saw 
how well-dressed the child was. 

After a little while, he seemed able to talk. 
i ' Where am I ? " he asked. ' ' I wanted to see where 
the baby Jesus lay, and I'm lost." 

The woman tried to cheer the little fellow, but 
try as she would, she could not find out where he 



A STRANGE NOEL 211 

lived. His name was Louis — that was all he knew 
except that "he wanted to see the baby Jesus.' ' 

She gave him some hot soup, and then tucking 
him up beside the sleeping Jacques, she set off 
again to tell the police that the boy was safe. 

Her way lay past the church, and as she passed 
the people were coming out. Ought she to stay 
just for a moment? The thought of Christmas 
and the empty sabots by her grate would not let 
her pass, so she just slipped into the church, and 
praying that her children might not be forgotten, 
she then went off once more. 

She had to wait a few minutes inside the office. 
There was someone already there. When he came 
out, the chief was saying, "You can depend upon 
that, monsieur. The moment we hear any- 
thing. . . ." 

"Pardon, messieurs, " broke in the poor woman, 
" is it about the boy who is lost ? ' 9 

"Yes," cried the gentleman, "do you know any- 
thing about him — Louis is his name !" 

"He is safe. I found him in the snow." 

The father was over-joyed, and calling a taxi, 
he bundled the poor woman in, and together they 
drove to the dismal house. 

On the way, he told her how the maid had taken 
the little boy out to see the infant Jesus, for in 
France, they have a scene made in some of the 
churches, showing the Child in the manger, and 
His parents standing by. But the maid had met 
a friend with whom she stopped to talk, and when 
she thought of the boy, he was nowhere to be seen. 

"You will see him again in a moment. This is 
the door, monsieur." 



212 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

Soon the father had the sleepy Louis in his 
arms, his heart full of gladness that the child had 
been found. But the boy was too disappointed at 
not seeing the manger to think of anything else. 

"'Can he stay a little longer?" asked the gentle- 
man. "I must go to the telephone and let his 
mother know. Then she will send the car here 
for us both." 

It must have taken a long time to telephone or 
else for the car to come, for the father was away 
for more than an hour. But I think I know the 
reason. He had told the man where to meet him, 
and he had been shopping! 

You never saw such a number of parcels. He 
had understood the empty sabots at the fireside, 
and the bare room had told its own tale. So no 
wonder the poor mother was overcome. A ham, 
a turkey, tea and coffee and ever so many other 
things were carried in, till the room looked almost 
like a store. 

Louis was awake now, and as the woman dressed 
him, he began telling his father of the beautiful 
dream he had had. "I was looking for the Man- 
ger, but I got so tired, and I couldn't go any 
farther, so an angel came from God. I told her 
I wanted to see the new-born King, and she took 
me to a poor house, and told me that I should see 
Him, for He was born in a poor dwelling. So I 
was waiting to see Jesus, and when I looked, it 
was you, pere ! ' ' 

The father's eyes were glistening as he said, 
" Where we see true love there we see Christ born 
again. This good lady who carried you to her 
home and cared for you has shown Him to us. I 



A STRANGE NOEL 213 

wish we could show Him to her. Do yon think we 
could, Louis ?" 

Louis watched his father stoop down and stuff 
something that looked like money into the little 
sabots ; then taking up two of the mysterious par- 
cels, he laid one beside each little child. 

"Tell the dear children/' he said, "that Christ 
has truly come again to the old world. May their 
Noel be as happy as you, by your care of my lost 
boy, have made mine!" 

The poor woman tried to thank the good gentle- 
man, but she found no words to do so; she just 
stooped and gave Louis a kiss on each cheek, 
while her eyes filled with tears of joy. 

Everyone seemed happy — Louis and his father, 
the chauffeur who had been looking on, mother 
and the nurse (who had been crying ever since 
she had missed the boy) — and not least, Jacques 
and Marie when they woke next morning; while 
I thought I saw Another whose face was radiant 
with a holy smile. He had seen it all. It was for 
His sake, who had Himself once been homeless 
and in need, that love had done all this. And He 
said, "If only people believed that to serve one 
another brings them happiness, and shows their 
love to Me." 



LII 
THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 

THE sun was sinking fast as an old, old man, 
leaning heavily on his staff, tottered feebly 
down the hill. He looked sad, and no wonder, for 
the people who lived in the city he had just left 
had not understood him, though he had tried to 
help them and to be their friend. And now that 
he was going, some of them had come to the city 
gates to see the last of him. 

They were shouting after him, just as one has 
sometimes seen rude children calling after an old 
man, and some of them took up stones as though 
they would throw them at him. 

"Go! go!" they cried, "we are glad to see you 
are off at last. ' r 

What had he done? 

The old man stopped and turned, as though he 
would say something. Then he must have changed 
his mind, for no one likes talking to rude people, 
and he went on again, while the men and women, 
and even the children shouted and jeered as hard 
as they could. 

Then there was a great noise that drowned their 
angry cries. A flash, another roll of thunder, and 
lo ! out of a cloud came a being with a face that 
shone like lightning. He held a great book in his 

214 



THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 215 

hand, and as the people looked at him in amaze- 
ment, he cried, 

"0 foolish ones! Know ye not that one of 
your truest friends leaves you this day?" 

No one answered, so the angel went on : 

"Ye blame the old man for the ills ye have 
brought on yourselves. Ye forget the benefits he 
has bestowed on you. Remember ye, when as 
governor he came to this beautiful city, how gladly 
ye welcomed him?" 

"Yes," replied the folk, "but that was because 
he came full of promises. He said he would show 
us the way to wealth. He assured us of much 
blessing and joy. But how many of his promises 
has he kept?" 

The angel looked very thoughtful for a moment, 
and then opening his great book, he said : "Let us 
see who is in the wrong, he or ye." 

He turned a few pages. "Yes, ye speak true. 
I find it is even as ye say. Here is the promise of 
good that the old man made when first he became 
your governor. But let me read further. To 
some he entrusted fine gold and merchandise that 
he had brought with him from distant lands. 
Some, I see, did trade with what he lent them, 
and their wealth increased so that all was well. 
Then they forgot that they owed something to 
their benefactor and to their poorer brethren to 
whom the old man had said a share must be given. 
So they began to hoard yet more and more. Then 
did their wealth moulder and lose its power to 
make rich. Is not that so?" 

The fac§£ of the people showed that the angel 
was right, but not a voice answered him. 



216 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

" Others, I see in this record, were given 
precious chances of increasing their knowledge, 
for the Ancient brought with him the treasures of 
wisdom. But how many learned, as he said, that 
the way of knowledge is the way of happiness and 
success? Few indeed! 

" Some spake against the knowledge of your 
governor, and others were known to have slept 
with his books before them. What wonder, then, 
that ye have profited little! But the fault is not 
his but yours. Who can teach those who will not 
learn ? 

"Ye blame him for the ills ye have brought on 
yourselves, but I have heard no mention of the 
blessings he made yours. Is that right? Is it 
fair? Answer me!" And the angel looked into 
the faces of the folk with grief if not anger in his 
eyes. 

Then spake one for the rest. "This man is not 
worthy of your good opinion, most noble sir. It 
is true that we have made mistakes, but so have 
all men. ' ' 

At this, the people clapped their hands, while 
one cried, "Truly said! Let our case be heard !" 

The man continued: "He gave us some things, 
it is a fact, but what of the things he stole from 
us? I was in his service. When I began I was 
younger far, and strong. Look at me now! He 
promised us joy, but to many he gave sorrow. He 
said that we should have all manner of blessings ; 
but there is not one who wishes to look on his 
withered old face again, for little good has he 
brought to any of us!" 

There was more clapping, but it died away as 



THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 217 

a man was seen pushing his way to the front of the 
crowd. 

"Most noble sir, let me speak,' ' he began. 
' i There is one who is glad to have met and known 
yonder old man of whom so many say hard 
things/ 9 And turning to the people he waved his 
hand, "Hearken, ye men! and I will speak!" 

A cry went round, "Hearken to Ilan, the true!" 

"We have known hard times, but tell me, my 
friends, have they not made us hardier though not 
hard, trustier because we have been tried? Is 
there not good coming out of all we have seen 
since the Ancient came among us? There is a 
bride in your house, Henryk. There is greater 
prosperity in our land, brothers mine! The 
children are taller; the youths are stronger; the 
maidens are fairer; and the old are wiser — or they 
might have been! Surely, had we done all our 
governor bade us, then blessings untold would 
have been ours. Yet this is true — we are far 
better off than we deserve, and that the Good God 
and my soul doth know. And so know you all!" 

The first speaker looked bewildered. He had 
not a word to say, not that it would have mattered 
much if he had, for the people were now clapping 
and shouting at the top of their voices, "True! 
True!" 

The angel waited a few minutes; then making 
a sign for silence, he said, "We must be fair to 
both speakers. Tell me why the story of the sec- 
ond was so different from the first. Ilan the true, 
let us hear you again." 

Ilan looked up. i ' I can tell you that quite easily. 
My friend has said what he thinks is true, but it 



^18 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 

is only partly true, for he lives in a house that is 
always in the shadow of yonder rock. I have been 
there, and it is all gloomy and dull. Its window 
is small, and from it he can see little, while, be- 
cause it is on the north side of the city and far 
from the road, he never sees the sun within, nor 
do travellers pass that way. 

" Now it so happens that my house faces south, 
just on the king's highway. It is where my father 
built long years ago so that I can claim no credit 
for that. But from my windows I can see the 
valley lying there bathed in sunshine, and along 
the highway pass my friends on their way in and 
out of the city gates. They never fail to tell me 
of the news they have heard, of the gains of the 
market, or the joys that the day has brought. 
That is why, under the rule of our aged governor, 
I have been happy in the happiness of others, and 
I have seen the blessing of many a home. It was 
Jiis counsel, his wisdom, and his righteous laws, 
that made us prosperous." 

As Ilan ceased, the angel said, "You speak 
well, my friend, and what is more, your words 
ring true. Listen all ! Ye were f oqlish and wrong 
to speak ill of the man who has been head of your 
«ity. The evils that came were largely of your 
own making, and to blame him was unjust. But 
he can never return to rule here more. Ye have 
treated him too badly." 

"But we will make amends," said some. 

"Ye may," replied the angel, "but not to him. 
His day is over. But when his son comes in his 
place ye can serve him better. ' J 

"His son?" they cried eagerly. "Has he a son 



THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 219 

then? And is he to be our governor? Then will 
we serve him well for the good his father made 
ours. ' y 

"He will be here ere the old man passes out of 
sight, and ye shall know him for he is young and 
he will bear the mystic figures on his breast that 
your calendars boast. For one year he will rule 
over you as governor of your city. Thus saith 
my Lord the King!" 

And the angel was gone ! But a voice was heard 
in the distance, crying, 

"A happy New Year to you all" 



THE END 







029 789 451 1 



Illi 



Wimwi 

■ilil 



i 



HIS 



mwm 



itllffifl 



mm 



il 



m 



ffilHil 



mm 






mm 
m 



mil 



inH 



mmm 



i| 



HH 

jhhl 



$ 



I 



mil 



B$l 



m 



ifflffli 
i 



